Dragon Age: Origins Good Intentions
by Leask
Summary: Already turned down by the Leask, with good intentions Morrigan instead approaches Alistair with a means to stop the Grey Wardens from perishing in the final battle against the Arch Demon. It doesn't quite go according to plan...
1. A Bad Decision

_**Disclaimers: **__Dragon Age: Origins and all related characters are obviously copy-write to Bioware. I'm just playing with them. __  
_**_Spoilers_**_: Through end game.  
_**_Author's Note:_**_ I got to the end of my first play through and was left wondering a question – why did Morrigan have to be the mother of the child in her ritual? I also wondered what would've happened had Alistair been approached about the ritual after the PC (in this case, Leask the city elf) turned him down. _

_For reference, Anora is on the throne, first enchanter Irving lived, the Dalish elves prevailed over the werewolves although Zathrain did end up sacrificing himself. Isolde killed Conner herself, and Harrowmont was crowned king in Orzammar. In the long run, I am playing about with elvish compatibility (in a biological sense) with humans, and running some of my own ideas about the effects of the taint and Morrigan's ritual. All these will be explained in text where appropriate. _

_Finally, all reviews and criticism is gratefully received! _

~xXx~

**Good Intentions**

**Chapter One**

**A Bad Decision.  
**

"Morrigan, I will not convince Alistair to sleep with you, and that's the end of that." Leask sighed at the apostate, running her hand through her braided red hair. "Besides, I highly doubt he would ever have agreed. Lets just leave it, OK?"

Morrigan frowned, letting her eyes wander to the fireplace and then back to the Grey Warden. "If you are completely sure about it Leask..." She replied softly. "I'll see if I can come up with something else to prevent your death. It would pain me to lose the first friend I've ever had."

Leask chuckled, reaching out to slap Morrigan on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it, old horse." She said with a grin. "In the event of my death, I'm sure Zevran would be more than happy to keep you company any night you feel lonely." And with that teasing remark, the Grey Warden winked and left.

~xXx~

"I had no idea it would have to end so horribly for you Alistair." Zevran commiserated Alistair in the kitchen. The two of them were sat with Oghren, several bottles of spirit open in front of them. Admittedly the dwarf was swaying a little on his stool, but it seemed to make no difference to his ability to hold his own in the conversation. The Grey Warden looked like he'd just been told his puppy had died after choking on his hamster.

The news from Riordan that one of the three of them would have to die was not sitting well with him. There was a one in three chance it could be Leask. Probably even higher as the damn elf was so stubborn she would probably knock him on the head out cold before he could kill the damn beast. And while Riordan was willing to make the sacrifice himself....Alistair had his doubts. Again the logical choice was Leask - Riordan was the only one capable of recruiting new Grey Wardens, neither himself nor Leask had the knowledge. And the city elf was far too sensible for her own good.

He slugged another mouthful of the Antivan Ale, and waved one hand at Zevran, drunkenly. "How...how come she's so damn commanding?" He complained, having forgotten the assassin's lament for him. "I mean, I have seniority, she's only been a warden what, six, seven months? Duncan was training me! I should be the one declaring this, and declaring that..."

Zevran and Oghren exchanged a long glance. The assassin slowly reached out and poured some water into Alistair's mug. "Ah my dear friend, but she is the ruler of your heart, your head and your lust." A smile touched his full lips. "And anyway, you declined the kingship and she put Anora on the throne so you did not have to rule. You have more influence over our lady than you realise."

Alistair snorted with a frown. "And what do you think, Oghren?" He said, turning to the dwarf as he drained a glass. "What should I do?"

The dwarf drained his mug and poured himself another before answering. "I think if you don't go to bed soon warden, you will miss out on your last chance to tap the forbidden still with the boss." A deep, throaty chuckle to himself. "Last night to don the velvet hat, ride the bucking bronco." More sniggers from the dwarf, before he quietly, gently, passed out and slid off his stool.

The silence that greeted him was only punctuated by Oghren's gentle drunken snores. "Well, with him out of the picture our heads will not be so cloudy in the morning." Zevran declared, before standing up and reaching across the table to pat Alistair on the shoulder. "I trust my friend, that should you die very bravely in battle tomorrow you will permit me to attempt to fill the void you leave in our dear lady's heart..."

"Don't you dare touch her!" Alistair's little jealous streak came to the fore, one hand reaching out to slap away the elf's patronising hand. His face flushed a little with embarrassment as he realised the elf was joking. The elf hopped back nimbly on his feet, his grin only widening. "Of course, I can always fill the void she leaves in yours...."

"Urgh! Go away!" Alistair glared, lurching across the table. "You revolting beast, is there anyone you won't pursue?" Zevran chuckled, reaching into one of his pockets. "Quiet yourself, my drunken friend. I only jest. Here, however, if you chew on this root you will find that your...performance is not so hampered by our merriment this evening." And with that the elf departed, leaving Alistair with only the asleep Oghren from company.

He sighed, letting his blue eyes wander to fix onto the dwarf, wondering in part how the man managed to sleep so uncomfortably like that. But Alistair's mind kept on wandering back to what Riordan had said - one of them would have to die, if not all of them. Half a year ago this would not have made any difference - hell, even a few months ago he would've gladly gone after the arch demon himself and slaughtered the beast without any hesitation. Watching Zevran and Leask together had made him furious. Inwardly he had resented them both... until Leask had found his mothers amulet. And remembered it was his, instead of selling it on like all the other trinkets she had found. From then on he had watched her carefully, noticing that she she displayed the same amount of thought and affection for everyone in the group. The mirror she found for Morrigan, the flowers and the nug for Leilana. The way she always paused at the markets, taking the time to find a particular ale she though Oghren might enjoy, or haggling for a good hour for a book for Wynne. Zevran's treatment, the dalish gloves like his mothers, the antivan boots. Leask was just showing that she listened. Eventually he saw Leask's and Zevran's relationship for what it was - just physical fun. A way of easing tension, a body to curl up with on the cold nights. It became even more clear that evening when they hit the pearl and Zevran vanished off with Isabella after Leask had learnt how to properly duel.

_Leask was sat with a book, her feet up on the table and a cup of some hot drink or another held in one hand. Zevran had been sitting with Isabella when Alistair had left to bathe, giggling and caressing, and Alistair was surprised to wander back and not see anyone sitting with Leask. He raised an eyebrow and gestured to the seat beside her. "Not spending the evening with Zevran?" He had said, before sitting down opposite her._

_Green eyes looked up from her book, and a slight smile curled the corner of her lips. "He has chosen a different bedfellow for tonight." She replied, marking her place in her book and closing it. "I was quite enjoying the solitude for once, actually."  
"Really?" He replied, unable to stop the surprise filtering into his voice. "I thought you two....you know...were romantically entwined?"  
Leask's eyes widened, "With Zevran?" She laughed. "God no. Yes, he's good for a bit of a fun, a little bit of pleasure, but come on, Alistair. The bloke has the attention span of a gnat, a good friend, yes, but a..." She waved a hand, searching for right words, a frown caressing her brow. "A lover, a husband, a..." Her groping for the right word vanished..."A you know. True love. Isn't really what I'm looking for. He's not dedicated enough. Not like you would be."_

_Alistair had been taken aback, and the look on his face must've been something priceless for Leask had burst out with that musical laughter of hers. She reached over and patted his hand. "Don't worry though, dear heart." Her terms of endearment were used indiscriminately. Even Morrigan had gotten used to the sleuths of wide ranging affection. "I am sure Zevran does not have his eye on __you. I rather think his type of man is a little less shy." And with that she winked, before Alistair turned the subject to something other than sex._

Alistair hadn't fallen for Leask that night - truthfully, he couldn't remember when he had fallen for her. Maybe it had been when she had found Duncan's shield for him, or maybe the night they had sat by the fire, just talking about a future neither of them of them would ever have. Alistair wanted it even more now - he had never expected to have children, nor really desired them. But with Leask... he wanted dozens. He didn't want to die in 20 years down the road fighting darkspawn in the deep roads. He wanted to grow old and see what sort of grandchildren he would have with Leask. He wanted to explore the rest of the world with her, travel to Orlais, go and see Sten's homeland. Now it pained him that they might not have that future. That he might not be around to see those things with her. That she might not be around to help him see those things, that Leask might lay that final blow to the arch demon and...

"There is another way, you know." Morrigan said, interrupting his thoughts. Frowning, he lifted his eyes to look at her. Resplendent in the glow of the fire place, she cut an eerie figure in the dark, empty kitchen. The only thing that cut through her dramatic entrance was Oghren muttering under his breath about stinkin' nugs. "What do you mean?" Alistair replied as Morrigan sat down opposite him, lifting the pitcher of ale and sniffing it tentatively.

"There's another way. No need for either of you to die when you kill the arch demon."  
"I don't understand."  
"There is an ancient ritual. I won't lie to you, I'm not sure you'll like it."  
Alistair hesitated, and if he hadn't been otherwise inebriated, he might've replied differently. Thought a little longer. "...Go..on?"  
"Flemeth told of me a ritual. If you and Leask conceive a child tonight, I can conduct the soul from the arch demon into the child, and neither of you will be harmed."  
Alistair eyed Morrigan carefully. "Won't that kill the baby?" He said softly.  
"It may, it may not. All I ask is that if Leask successfully carries the child to full term, that you hand it to me. To raise as my own."  
"No, absolutely not." Alistair said, standing up. He pushed back the stool, shaking his head at the apostate's suggestion. "What a ludicrous idea. No, I won't do it."  
As he left, Morrigan's final statement echoed in his ears..."If later, you change your mind....you know where to find me."

~xXx~

"If there was a way for one of us not to die..."Alistair whispered to Leask as they lay in bed that night, she on her front, arms resting on folded arms, eyes shut, he on his side, fingers playing with the small braids Leask habitually wore in her red hair, "Would you take it?"  
"There is a way." She muttered softly. "Let Riordan kill the arch demon. Simple."  
"That's a little heartless, Leask." Alistair scolded gently in reply.  
"It is the truth." She answered, rolling onto her back, the motion causing his hand to rest onto her cheek. Then down her neck. For a moment Alistair was distracted while his fingers lingered on her shoulder, before sliding down to rest on her naked belly. Her green eyes focused on his, before lifting one of her hands behind her head.  
"What's on your mind?" Leask asked gently, letting Alistair see the concern on her face. "Were you talking to Eamon again about duty? Was he trying to convince you to marry Anora again? Or were you drinking with Zevran? You know that is always a mistake."  
"Zevran and Oghren." Alistair answered truthfully, letting out a sigh. "And they all have nothing to do with it. The battle tomorrow...with the darkspawn. I wish...I wish it wasn't happening."  
Leask chuckled, the sound neither patronising or mocking. "Oh Ali..." She said gently, moving to cup his cheeks. "It was you who said that if it wasn't for the blight we would never have met. Can you imagine our futures? You, a templar. Me, a city elf married to a sweet but useless boy. Our paths may have passed...but you'd have had a stick so far up your ass you wouldn't be able to bend over and tie your shoes, and I'd have been so angry and bitter about my lot in life I'd probably have been hanged by now." Her fingers touched his hairline, her body moving closer to his. Without thinking Alistair let his arm encircle her petite waist, drawing her even closer. "No, better to have loved you for a moment, than to have lived forever without you." She whispered, before kissing him. He wanted to argue with her, to bemoan the loss of their future together, but he couldn't. All they had was here and now... Alistair's arms tightened about Leask, and he deepened the kiss.

~xXx~

As Leask lay sleeping, Alistair made his decision. Dressing quietly he got out of bed, and headed to Morrigan's bedchamber. She was awake, standing in front of the fire as if expecting his arrival. He hated himself for doing this but....

"Changed your mind?" She said as he pushed open her door, a smile curling her lips.  
"What do I have to do?" Alistair said, folding his arms over his chest...  
"Nine months from now...Leask will give birth to twins. One will be blond and hazel eyed like yourself, the other will have dark hair and green eyes. I will collect the child with the green eyes. The birth will be...difficult. Do not let anyone interfere, Alistair, the second child is mine."  
A deep frown wandered over the former templars face. Briefly his tongue flickered over his bottom lip, one hand lifting up to rub the back of his head. His weight shifted from left to right.  
"And you're sure that if one of us lays the final blow, we won't die?"  
"Neither of you would die. I can't say the same for Riordan, however. He has had the taint much longer than either of you, and as a result is a much more complicated subject."  
For a long moment Alistair considered it. For a long time he thought about rights and wrongs, shoulds and should nots.... But in the end he drew a conclusion. That he would do anything not to lose Leask.  
"Very well then."  
It was the decision that would change everything.

~xXx~

They'd secured the gates. "There's two generals..." Riordan declared, explaining that the Arch Demon would call on them at some point in the battle, and it might be wise that they were eliminated before the Arch Demon was engaged.  
"Sten, you take Leilana and the Redcliffe soldiers. Keep this gate secure. Morrigan, Oghren, Wynne you head to the market district and hunt the General there." Leask said, handing over the bugles. "The rest of us will hunt out the other General in the Alienage."  
"Is that wise?" Riordan declared, "You have family in the Alienage, what if you get distracted?"  
"Riordan, old horse..." Leask grinned. "I've spent the last few months of my life fighting with the man I am fucking by my side. I'm not going to get distracted."  
Alistair could feel blush rising to his cheeks, as Leask clapped the older Grey Warden on his shoulder and grinned. "Come on boys and girls." She carried on breezily, tossing her head back and offering a toothy grin. "Just another day in the fields, lets get rid of some vermin."  
"YEA!" Oghren raised his axe in a happy bellow.

The groups headed their separate ways. As they surged into the Alienage, Alistair recognised Shianni, Leask's cousin. Or was she her sister? "Shianni!" He shouted, running over to her.  
"Alistair!" The red headed elf replied, genuinely surprised to see him. "The darkspawn! They've got us cornered, can you help?"  
"Be glad to," He grinned, reaching for his sword. "Just tell us where to go."  
"Um...Alistair..." Zevran sounded hesitant, his accent thicker. Like he was really worried about something.  
"What?" The warden replied, glancing over his shoulder to see the elf looking about the place worriedly.  
"Where's Billy?"  
"Who is Billy?" Shianni asked, over the thundering of a darkspawn ogre at the make shift barricade. "Leask's dog!" Alistair shouted back, his eyes darting back to the barricade. It was built well, but wood only held so long against a focused ogre. He could see it dropping it's head for another charge. "She's never without him...LEASK?"  
Zevran waited for Alistair's brain to catch up.  
"LEASK?!" He shouted again, looking about for her. "Leask? Where are you?!"  
But before he could panic the barricade was down, and the darkspawn swarmed through.

~xXx~

Leask loathed climbing. She loathed it more than stairs, and she had never really liked stairs anyway. Billy was leaping up the rubble like a mountain goat, and turned around to gloat at her with a happy bark.  
"Oh, wheesht!" She shouted back at the mabari, glad briefly for the distraction. "Are we nearly there yet Riordan?!" She called up after the other warden, who seemed to be sharing the same enthusiasm as the blasted dog for climbing up the half destroyed tower.  
The shriek from the arch demon shook the tower. Cursing the beast Leask's already sore fingers found more resolve, and she managed to push herself up more of the tower.  
"The summit is in sight!" Riordan yelled back to her, giving her the encouragement to clamber up the rest of it. It wasn't long before the three of them stood on the highest platform of the tower at Fort Drakon, The arch demon circled the edge of the city, a stream of spirit fire blasting from it's mouth, eradicating what was possibly the pearl. For a brief moment Leask frowned. "Aw, Zevran will be heart broken if the Pearl has gone up in smoke." She observed, her joke falling onto deaf ears. At least Billy pretended to look amused.  
"We must lure the arch demon over here." Riordan went on. "Our presence does not seem to be affecting it."  
Leask unhooked her crossbow, and grabbed one of her ice bolts. "I'm a dreadful shot." She admitted, "But I can give it a go?"  
"Let me..." The other warden took the crossbow, loaded the bolt into place, took aim...and fired.  
The bolt hit the Arch Demon's side, long enough after being released that Leask found her breath caught in her throat. The great beast roared in fury, spinning in the air to change it's flight path. It's eyes caught sight of the two wardens on the tower.

~xXx~

The scream of fury from the Arch Demon caught everyone's attention. Sensibly, Alistair struck off the head of a Hurlock before letting his eyes look over in it's direction. It had been flying around setting fire to various parts of the city, but now it seemed to have a streaming purpose. It was heading for Fort Drakon.

"Is that...?" He wondered aloud, ducking under the wild slash from a genlock.

"Leask and Riordan on the tower? Don't be daft!" Zevran shouted in reply, kicking a darkspawn in the chest before using his dagger to open it's throat. "Why would two Grey Wardens be exactly where the arch demon is flying?"

"Maker damn it!" Alistair cursed, felling another two with an angry sweep. "That fucking elf!"

"I take offence!" Zevran hissed back, stepping backwards. He couldn't help but notice that they were getting surrounded by darkspawn. His back momentarily pressed against Alistair's – they had been fighting in a ring formation, covering each other's flanks and felling anything that came within range. It wasn't the elf's preferred fighting style, he'd always rather pick off enemies from a distance, but there was just none to be had. He nodded to his left.

"The general is over there, at three o'clock." The assassin pointed out, and saw Alistair's attention head that way.

"Right then, new plan. We kill the general, and the hack and slash our way to Fort Drakon."

"But Leask told us to hold the Alienage!"

"Damn Leask!" Was the templar's response.

~xXx~

"This isn't the wisest of ideas." Leask mused, tying the rope around the Axe Head, and around her waist.

"Agreed," Riordan nodded, making sure he had all of his daggers. "But it's the only one we've got."

It was a plan that was stupid in it's simplicity. The two of them would leap onto the Arch Demon, using their blades as a way to stay on. When on it's back it couldn't really do much damage to them, so while Leask stabbed and hacked at it in squishy, sore places, hopefully distracting it, Riordan would clamber along it and slice it's jugular. Or stab something deep into it's brain. That in theory, should be the killing stroke. Whether or not the plan would work was yet to be seen – it was after all hurriedly thrown together after they had shot the beast.

"Good job I brought rope." The elf muttered to herself, beginning to seriously doubt whether or not her axe would actually get enough purchase on the arch demon's flesh. Still, she had to try. The beast was upon them now, and it launched a fireball at them. Riordan leapt left, and Leask right. They scattered as masonry fell. The dog growled in protest, poised to leap.

"No Billy." She said, momentarily resting her hand atop the mabari's head. "You have to sit this one out. Go look after my boys." The dog whined, then barked.

Leask's green eyes sought out Riordan. He leapt from edge of the tower, free falling before arching his dagger around and stopping his fall by slashing the arch demon's flesh. It barely made a dent in the monster. Wasting no time in seeing how he was getting on, she began to swing her axe around in a circle on the end of it's rope.

"Andraste, if your listening." She muttered, not believing in the prayer but figured there was no harm in it. "Please let this axe find purchase.

The arch demon flew up past her. It's sides were huge. It stank. Either the taint, or the filth from such a huge, hot beast.... Leask hurled the axe at it's side. The blade found purchase. As the arch demon continued to climb higher into the sky, Leask was dragged off her feet and up with it.

From the tower, her mabari let out a long howl.

~xXx~

"HOLD!" Bellowed Sten, the 50 or so Redcliffe soldiers standing behind him. They were nervous, of that he was sure. The hoard were creeping forward, holding their line. One side would have to break first, and Sten was determined that it would be the darkspawn.

"They absolutely reek." Wynne observed, her hands moving as she summoned a heroic aura, giving the men behind them a stronger resolve to stay in line. They had already cleared the marketplace, finding surprisingly little resistance from the general and a few ogres. It was worrying. Almost felt like a trap. They had returned to the gates on Wynne's instance that something was going on.

"What do you expect from a few hundred darkspawn?" Morrigan retorted. "You were lucky you weren't with us in the dark roads. I still wake up smelling the stench."

Sten laughed, "Look. One of them breaks."

Leliana let loose an arrow, and the beast fell with it through it's eye. That seemed to be enough, the dark spawn lunged forward and the battle began.

~xXx~

"Look! The damn thing is flying, we'll never catch it!" Zevran shouted as he and Alistair ran through the city. Occasionally they stopped and swiped at darkspawn, but it was wild hacking and slashing. Alistair didn't even pause to make sure the damn things were dead.

"It's got to land sometime!" He yelled back, glancing over his shoulder. "And when it does I'll gut it like a fish!"

Zevran fell silent, running along just behind Alistair. There was no dissuading the man. He was determined to face down the arch demon. Well, in that case...He did have his orders. Zevran just hoped he would be able to carry them out.

~xXx~

Leask floundered along in the air for a moment. She had to admit, she was enjoying the thrill. She swung back, the arch demon flying low past the palace. For a second her feet found purchase on the stone wall, and she was able to push herself off and towards the body of the demon. She hauled out one of her knifes, and forced it into the beast's hide quarter. He screeched in fury again, but now she had a purchase. Balancing one foot on the beast she then proceeded to clamber up it's side, using small knives to create footholds. Soon she was on the creature's broad back, and she could see the whole city. She'd never been this high in her life.

Unfortunately, the elf had more important things to do than admire the view. "Riordan!" She yelled, in time to see him ahead of her, nearer to the creature's shoulder. He ignored her, and started to stride towards the creature's head. She frowned at him, only in time for the arch demon to suddenly swoop right. It was only by thinking quickly that Leask didn't fall off the beast entirely – she swiftly thudded one of her knives into it's back. Her legs dangled in the air and she watched helplessly as the arch demon turned left, causing Riordan to thump heavily onto the membrane of one of it's wings. "Use your knife!" She screamed at him, unsure if the grey warden would hear her.

Either he did, or was thinking the same thoughts as she because his knife failed to gain purchase. It sliced through the thin membrane, Riordan sliding helplessly down towards the ground.

"Riordan!" Leask yelled again, panic rising from her stomach. Getting to her feet she ran forwards, not sure what she would do but desperately trying to think of something, anything. She threw herself on her stomach, sliding forward just in time to see Riordan run out wing to slide down, and fall down into the chasm of air. He flew right past her, and wildly she grabbed for him, gaining some purchase on his armour. She could feel the edge of the metal plate cutting through her glove into her fingers where she gripped it, the blood making her purchase on him slippy.

"You must kill it!" Riordan yelled at her.

"No!" Leask yelled back, scrabbling with her free hand to grab another dagger. "Hold onto this!" Again, she slammed the small blade into beast's side. It roared, and banked left again, losing altitude due to it's ravaged wing.

Riordan stretched one hand out, but at that moment Leask lost a hold of him and he plummeted down to the ground. "Riordan!" The elf yelled uselessly, feeling sick. But she had no time to cry, no time react. The arch demon came around, low over the battle at the gate. Her grip on her hastily embedded dagger began to slip. She had to get to the arch demon's head.

~xXx~

"It's going to land!" Alistair upped the speed of his run. "And looks like it's going to be in the forecourt of palace. Come on Zev, we're nearly there!"

The elf had fallen behind, considering his options. Leask has specifically told him not to let Alistair near the arch demon during any part of the battle. And while he had questioned her daft devotion to the human, he had agreed. What he hadn't realised was that Leask would've done a disappearing act in a 'I'm going to kill the giant beastie myself' sort of way that would lead to Alistair acting like this. He'd tried persuasion, and already he knew reasoning wasn't going to work. He'd have to get physical, and knock the damn bastard out. Shit.

"Wait up Alistair!" He called, speeding up his own run.

~xXx~

"Watch out!" Leliana called, pulling her blade out of a gemlock's head. "Here comes the arch demon!"

The wind created by the beast as it flew over head nearly knocked them to the ground. Morrigan found herself ducking to avoid a taloned foot. She brought her staff around, spotting Leask clambering along it's back. Her dark eyes glanced around – Sten was hacking down three darkspawn. Leliana was flanking Wynne as she moved through the battlefield, healing as best she could. Oghren was surrounded by bodies of darkspawn, and more were approaching him. It was time. Stepping backwards she exited quietly, disappearing through crowd.

~xXx~

Leask had found her footing and ran towards the dragon's head. It was flying low, nearly on the ground. Drawing her warden longsword from her back she leapt. Swiftly she covered the distance along it's neck, feet landing just behind the crown of the creature's horns.

With all her strength Leask brought the blade down on the beast's spine. She heard the horrible crunching of Silverite through bone.

The arch demon reared, letting out another furious roar. He footing gone, Leask struggled to hold onto the pommel, dangling helplessly. She let out a scream of fury, swinging her legs back and forth , hooking one of them around it's horns. Finally with a heave she hauled the sword out, just in time to lift it to slash across one of the arch demon's forepaws as it brought them around in an attempt to dislodge her. Screaming again Leask brought the blade down once more, hacking into the spine before being flung off by a furious shake of the arch demon's head.

With a sickening crack the elf hit the wall, before sliding down it. Her entire back ached, and for a moment she lay stunned on the ground, vision swimming. It was only the shaking of the ground from the arch demon's footfalls that brought her around. She struggled to her feet.

Alistair rounded the corner to the portcullis of the forecourt. He could see the arch demon, trailing one useless wing. Blood was pouring down it's dark hide from a massive wound in it's neck. It would never stem the flow from that wound. But in front of it? He could see Leask, obviously dazed as she got to her feet. "Leask!" He shouted, unable to stop himself. He made to run for her, but from nowhere a darkspawn cut him off. He didn't have time to draw his sword, but a growl and the stink of hot animal passed his shoulder. The dog landed on the darkspawn, ripping the creature's head off before surging forward. There was at least 15 darkspawn cutting them off from Leask.

The templar roared in frustration, hauling out his sword again and smacking a Shriek in the face with his shield, before stabbing it through the mouth.

"Zevran!" He yelled over his shoulder. "Any chance of you hitting the Arch Demon with an ice bolt?"

"All out my friend!" The assassin shouted back, before reaching his belt and hauling off a soulrot bomb. This he hurled into the group of darkspawn, forcing a small space which he stepped into. "I'll see what I can find to fling at it though, although I'm rather sure it would be more like spitting into a thunder storm!"

"We've got to get to Leask!" It was all Alistair cared about. All that mattered.

Leask swayed on her feet. She was sure at least some of her ribs were broken. Possibly her upper arm too. Nevertheless, as the arch demon rounded on her, she saw her chance. Running forward she snatched up a sword buried in the body of a darkspawn. Lifting it over her shoulder she ran at it, ducking under it's head and ramming the blade up in to the soft flesh of it's neck. Running forward she opened up a massive wound in it's neck, which sprouted blood into her eyes. Cursing the creature Leask skidded to a halt as it let out a death scream before collapsing to the ground.

"Leask!" She could hear Alistair, but she ignored him. As much as she would've liked to have said a final goodbye, there was no time. She moved forward, again raising the great-sword above her head and brought it down on the arch demon's neck, only to lifted off her feet as the arch demon tossed it's great head one last time. It's muzzle hit her in the stomach, the force of the blow knocking her backwards, across the courtyard.

She flew just above the heads of the darkspawn, over Alistair and Zevran, before again colliding with the wall. Leask definatly felt bones crunch this time as she hit the stone pavings, but was grateful to see the arch demon still, motionless. The dark spawn began to run.

"Maker, Leask are you alright!?" She heard Alistair. The elf was sure she could see Morrigan standing over by the Arch Demon. What was she doing there? She specifically remembered telling her to hold the gate...

"Fire!" Zevran screamed, the remaining darkspawn streaming away from the palace forecourt. The last thing Leask saw was Alistair, shielding her body with his. Her last thought as her eyes closed was she had told Zevran to stop Alistair getting anywhere near the Arch Demon. Why did nobody listen to her?


	2. Revelations

No one was sure why the arch demon exploded. It wasn't even a proper explosion. Yes, there had been fire. Alistair's armour had ended up blackened, the leather straps left stiff and brittle. Zevran had lost his eyebrows, and the dog stank even more now that he had been singed. But aside from the immediate area where the arch demons now charred carcass lay, there was little to suggest there had been a fire. The fire hadn't even raged, it was more like a brief blast of fire cast by a mage – it dissipated quickly. Too quickly.

Alistair was certain it had been something to do with Morrigan's ritual, but she had since vanished so there was no way to ask her. Currently he was stuck in Arl Eamon's study, in the middle of a conversation with Anora...Sorry, Queen Anora, and Arl Eamon. They were talking about rebuilding Redcliffe, Denerim, and Lothering. Driving out the last of the darkspawn.

He sat at the table, the palm of one hand propping up his head with his elbow on the table. Hazel eyes focused blankly on the flags on the far wall, and he let out a sigh.

"Alistair?" Eamon's voice cut through his day dream.

"Huh?" He answered, sitting back upwards and offering a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I was miles away, what were you saying?"

"I was asking what we should do about the Grey Wardens, Alistair. You are effectively the leader now." Anora said, leaning back in her chair and fingering her goblet of watered down wine.

"Well...I guess you should permit the wardens from Orlais to cross the border." The templar replied distantly, lifting one hand to rub the back of his head, eyes wandering from the Queen to the wall again. "And somewhere for us to train and recruit would be nice too, considering...well... we'll be needing to do a fair bit of that."

"Of course." Anora said gently, offering the distracted warden a smile. Her eyes glanced over at Arl Eamon, who took the hint.

"You know Alistair, everything else that needs to be discussed can be decided between Queen Anora and myself...how about you take a break? And we'll present our ideas about a Grey Warden keep to you later."

Alistair didn't need to be offered twice. "Thank you." He said, swiftly rising and leaving the room.

Anora waited until Alistair was out of ear shot before continuing. "So about the army, I think every man deserves a bonus for their efforts..."

~xXx~

The first thing that came to her mind was that there must've been something very heavy sitting on her head. Like a castle. She groaned, and could hear the rustling of someone's clothes as they rushed over. "Cousin?"

Ah, she knew that voice. She knew that voice very well. Gingerly Leask opened her eyes, and after a few seconds Shianni swam into view. Her face was a picture of concern. The elf swallowed, and attempted to sit up, but her cousin's insistent hands pushed her back into the folds of the bed. She coughed softly. "Water?"

God her voice sounded rough. Hewn. Like she had eaten sandpaper. Shianni's worried face disappeared, and Leask used the opportunity to sit upright. It was a bit of a mistake, her vision swam, her head pounded and her stomach lurched. A wet nose pressed against her hand, and a soft whine indicated that here was someone who wanted to see her.

"Billy!" Leask said, leaning back against the pillows as the mabari invited himself up onto the bed. He laid out fully, his back end wagging in happiness and barked. She scritched the top of the dogs head. "You're meant to be a ruthless war-hound." She whispered, "Not some human Noble's bed warmer." The dog only licked her hand.

Shianni returned with the water. Gratefully Leask took it, making to down the entire glass. Again her cousin stopped her with a frown. "Sip it slowly, you'll make yourself sick."

Leask nodded, and drew in a sigh.

"By the Maker," Shianni declared, now throwing her arms about Leask's neck and giving her a squeeze. "It is good to see you well!"

Leask smiled, patting her cousin on the arm. "What happened?" She said softly, "Shouldn't I be dead?"

"No!" Shianni replied, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Alistair said that the fall from the arch demon didn't kill Riordan. He and Zevran saw the whole thing – he had fallen into the courtyard, and after the arch demon knocked you against the wall Riordan appeared, lurched over to the arch demon and ended it's life by stabbing it through the brain. You took it near death, but it was Riordan that laid the final blow."

Leask took this in quietly. So Riordan hadn't died. He'd done what he set out to do. A smile touched her lips, well, something went to plan at least.

"It's very queer though." Shianni went on. "His body hasn't been found."

"What do you mean?"

"Riordan's body. It hasn't been found."

"Oh...that's..."

Leask's sentence was interrupted by Wynne. "You're awake!" She declared, rushing forward to check her. The old mage's hand brushed over the elf's forehead and the other hand went to her wrist, checking her pulse. "And aware, which is very fortunate child." Her hands dropped away, clasping in front of her, the smile splitting the old woman's face. "You had us all very worried. You knocked your head so badly we had to induce a coma in you to let your head heal."

"How long have I been out?" Leask asked, only just noticing the pain in her shoulder, and the numerous bandages wrapped about her person.

"Three weeks." Was Wynne's reply, and she offered another, maternal, knowing smile. Leask eyed her suspiciously. "That arch demon did a great deal of damage to you. If it hadn't been Alistair shielding you from that blast, you would've been in much worse shape however."

"Blast?" Leask asked,

"Yes, when the arch demon died there an explosion of magic fire, and a great pillar of magic rose high into the sky. It was remarkable, a sight I was very glad to see. And once that happened, all the darkspawn-"

Wynne was cut off however, someone else had entered the room.

"Leask?" It was hopeful, as if the owner of the voice had walked into the room several times before, and been disappointed. Wynne fell silent, and once more passed her hand over Leask's hair. "I'll tell you later child." As Wynne moved out of her vision, she saw Alistair standing tentatively in the doorway. Leask offered a smile.

She felt Shianni's lips against her temple. "I'll fetch you something to eat cousin." She said gently, before she left. Alistair stepped out of the doorway to let the two women leave, and Leask's smile broadened as Shianni closed the door behind her. For a second the templar lingered, glancing behind at the closed door.

Then, suddenly, he ran across the room, leaning over Leask's dog to cup her cheeks in his hands. He kissed her.

He kissed her gently, fingers entwining in her hair, finger tips lightly brushing over the points of her ears. Leask groaned for all this, her own hands moving to Alistair's shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles as he sat down on the bed before her, an action that only served to deepen the kiss. Her breath was warm, her lips were pliant. Alistair had to stop himself before he took it any further.

His forehead rested against hers. She pressed a small kiss to his lips. And another, her finger tips moving up his neck.

"....Makers breath but you're beautiful." He whispered.

Leask's smile broadened, her back arching to press another of those fleeting kisses to his cheek, then his forehead. His skin was left tingling when her lips departed.

"You're trembling..." Was Leask's reply, her fingertips moving the back of his neck, playing with the short clipped hairs she found there.

"I thought I'd lost you." Alistair said gently, unable to stop himself from stealing another kiss from those lips. "You wouldn't wake up, Wynne had done everything and you just..."

"Shhh..." Leask offered him a smile.

"I was even considering returning to the Frostback Mountains and seeing if I could get more of Andraste's Ashes to cure you..."

The elf only laughed a little harder, kissed him again and then lay back on the pillows. One hand dropped from Alistair to point to the floor, where the dog got out from lying between the two lovers. Leask then shuffled over to offer a space on the bed to the templar, who eagerly moved around to take her into his arms properly. He buried his nose in her hair and smiled, eyes slipping shut.

"What happened to the rest of the darkspawn?" Leask asked.

"After the battle they turned tail and ran. The dalish elves and the dwarves ran most of them down, but some did get away. After the arch demon died they seemed to lose all formation, all sense of organisation. There's the odd pocket or pack of them hanging around, but they're pretty quickly being rooted out."

"Any word from the other wardens?" She felt Alistair tense in her arms. He drew in a deep breath before nodding, gingerly.

"Yes." There was hesitation in his voice. "There is a group heading here from Orlais. They should be here inside a month or so. They want to discuss rebuilding the Ferelden section. And congratulate us on successfully averting a blight pretty much by ourselves."

Leask laughed, before kissing him on the cheek and pushing him off the bed. Reluctantly Alistair got up, letting one hand trail down her arm, momentarily entwining their fingers. "I suppose I should go find Shianni, let you eat something."

"I am famished." Leask agreed, wriggling to sit more comfortably in bed. "I'll be right back." Alistair said as he left the room, in search of Shianni.

Pushing back the sheets she examined her wounds. Beyond all the obvious scrapes and bumps and bruises, her left side had obviously been burned. Her skin was a little sticky where a heat salve had been applied, and her upper arm was heavily bandaged. Drawing her arm up she saw a little blood ease out through the bandages, which caused her to frown heavily. Other than that, she was remarkably well preserved. No doubt there had been broken bones – her limbs felt heavy and drained, and she was exhausted. But hungry. And in need of a pee.

Gingerly she swung her legs off the bed, and pushed herself of the edge of the bed. She stood up slowly, her head swimming with the surge of blood. Her arm found balance on the wall and the elf paused, catching her breath and letting her vision find itself again. With that she tentatively walked her way across the room towards the garderobe, and opened the door to it.

She'd always loathed indoor toilets. The smell that came up was just awful. Much more hygienic to have an outhouse in which you could bury the smell with ash. She was about to step in when Wynne's voice stopped her.

"Wait!" Frowning, she glanced over her shoulder to see Wynne. The elderly mage was rummaging through the vanity, upon which there were so many herbs and potions that she could've opened her own apothecary. She scuffled about until she found a small beaker, which she produced triumphantly and presented to Leask.

"This is going to be awkward, but I need a sample."

There was a long, bewildered pause.

"Of...what?" Leask asked defensively.

"Your.... your water." Wynne coughed, glancing away and offering the beaker to Leask again. She shook it. It was an entirely comical situation.

"OK." Leask took the beaker hesitantly. A deep frown furrowed itself over her features and she gave Wynne an odd look before slipping into the garderobe, and pulling the door across. As she lifted her tunic and dropped her knickers, sitting on the wooden seat, she just knew Wynne was listening.

"...So what do you need a sample for?" It was awkward, peeing into a beaker. Leask was not having a fun time.

"Oh, just a hunch. I need to run some tests on it to make sure you're up to full health." Wynne lied.

"You're a terrible liar, Wynne."

Leask finished up, wiping herself, and the beaker off. She pulled up her knickers, and emerged to an overeager Wynne. She took the beaker and headed back to the table littered with her apothecary things. Shaking her head at the mage Leask ambled back over to the bed, sitting down upon it and curling one leg beneath her. Billy leapt up to lay his head in her lap, and idly she fiddled with the mabari's ears as she watched.

Wynne sucked up some of Leask's pee with a pipette. This was secreted into a mortar, where a powder was sprinkled in it and ground up. Various other things from small, suspicious looking bottles were also added, before the whole thing was poured into a jar and shaken vigorously. Wynne's face was all aglow, as she turned back to Leask however. "Now we just wait for five minutes to let the chemicals react."

"Huh." Leask replied, deadpan.

It was this point where Shianni returned with a tray of broth and bread. It smelt delicious. "Gimme Gimme Gimme!" The warden decreed, reaching out with her grabby hands. Her cousin laughed. "Always the same, aren't you Leask?" Shianni said, setting the tray on Leask's lap. She tore apart the bread and dipped it in the broth. "I have no idea how you manage to stay so slim." Shianni teased, scratching the top of the dog's head.

"Killing darkspawn is a great cardiovascular work out." Leask spoke with her mouth full, and a big grin. She pointed at the broth. "This is excellent. Really good!"

Wynne had meandered back to her table to peer at the concoction in the jar. Leask was busy gossiping with her cousin – apparently Shianni had her eye on a rather handsome elf she had seen working in the kitchen. Leask was quickly telling her of the Dalish, where most of the men there were obscenely attractive and that Shianni shouldn't settle so quickly.

The Wynne squealed.

Wynne shouldn't squeal. It wasn't dignified, it wasn't wise, it wasn't, well. Wynne. She regained her composure quickly and walked over to the two girls at the bed. She smiled, and presented the jar, the fluid of which had turned a pink in colour, to them.

"Watch it cousin." Leask said, chewing on another mouthful of break. "That jar has got my pee in it. I think Wynne has invented a new darkspawn poison!"

"No no no, nothing of the sort." Wynne said, grinning from ear to ear. "It is in fact joyous news – you're pregnant!"

Wynne's revelation was not greeted in the joyful way she thought it would be. Everyone, naturally, was aware of the relationship between Leask and Alistair. It was hard not to be aware of such things when you were lying in the tent next to them. It was only a matter of time, really. Although chances were slimmed down considering the biology.

"What?" In the end, neither Leask nor Shianni responded. It was Alistair, who had returned with fresh clothes for Leask. His voice was deadpan. Stepping further into the room he laid the clothes over a chair, and approached the trio.

"How'd...how'd you know?" The concern etched on his face was a little disconcerting. But then, he as probably feeling the same stomach churning sensation at the news that Leask was.

"I had my suspicions." Wynne began to explain. "We mage's can sense life force, in some ways. Just these last two weeks, while I've been tending to you Leask I've been wondering. I had to confirm my hunch with a little bit of alchemy, but the results speak for themselves. Unfortunately I can't tell you how far along you are without some questions and some counting back, but I do believe congratulations are in order."

"That's wonderful!" Shianni exclaimed, throwing her arms around Leask's shoulders. She squeezed her cousin tight and kissed her on the temple. "Just think of what Cyrion will say!"

Leask caught Alistair's eyes, and he was looking at her with great concern. He offered a smile though, stepping up and sitting in front of her on the bed. Not saying anything he took one of her hands and entwined his fingers with hers. A little bit of the sickening feeling went away. The elf let out a breath, and closed her eyes.

"Could... you maybe excuse us, guys?" Leask opened her eyes again and looked from Wynne to Shianni. "And not tell anyone yet? It's...early on, ya know?" Wynne and Shianni nodded, quickly vacating the room. So did the dog.

"I forget how smart that mongrel is..." Alistair attempted to lighten the mood.

"Alistair," Leask ignored him, "I wouldn't pin your hopes on anything. I lost the last one."

He frowned, leaning back a little and entirely confused. "What on earth do you mean?"

Leask's hand removed itself from his own. She leant back against the cushions, folding her arms over her chest. "Remember the story I told you about how Duncan recruited me? With Vaughan taking some of us elvish women from my wedding party?"

Alistair nodded.

"Well, it wasn't first time he and his men raided the alienage for sport. About three years ago, I was raped and I ended up pregnant. Two out of three human elven pregnancies never make it to term. When I miscarried at three months I was overjoyed, naturally. I didn't want to be carrying that monster's child. But...Alistair..." She trailed off when his face fell as the realisation of what she was telling him struck. That frown was back. That frown of disappointment, of heartbreak. Of loss.

"Please. Please don't pin all your hopes on this pregnancy. If it fails we can try again. Try when we're ready, if that's what you want to do."

In silence he nodded, tongue darting over his lips. Hazel eyes wandered away from Leask to glance to the wall, the ceiling, then back to her. For several long moments his eyes wandered over her, before finally settling on her face. He seemed to come to some form of conclusion. A smile spread over those angular features and he crawled over the bed to kiss her, fingertips grazing along her jawline.

"I want you." Alistair said, a half smile upon his lips. Another kiss. "And everything that comes with you. If you bring children, great. If you don't...no biggy. Means more time for us. No...interruptions." A grin crawled over his features as he slipped one arm around her waist, pulling the petite, muscular little elf all the closer. In his arms she laughed, wriggling a little before draping her arms around his neck. "No midnight feeding's."

"No stinky nappies."

"No giant heads!"

Alistair didn't quite get that one. He peered down at Leask like she had just farted. "Huh?"

"Think about it Alistair. Take Zevran, for example."

"Must I?"

"For example!" She scolded, ignoring his lips wandering down her neck. "You're fairly average height for a human, right?"

"Mmhmm."

"And Zevran?."

" Zevran is a short arse. He can barely see over my shoulder."

"Think about my height compared to Leliana, Wynne and Morrigan."

"You're petite."

"No....Zevran and I are actually pretty tall for elves."

Alistair paused in his kisses, fingers unhooking from neckline of Leask's tunic. "So...what are you saying?"

"The last girl I knew who had a human's baby...well. The baby had a big head. It got stuck."

"Stuck?"

Leask's hands caught Alistair's head by the cheeks. Her green eyes bored into his hazel. "Think, about it, carefully." She said slowly.

Realisation dawned. "OH Andraste! Really? Oh no...Really? Oh Maker!" Leaning back on his haunches, Alistair clapped his palm to his forehead. "Oh Maker's breath. There's going to be a lot more to this than I thought, isn't there?"

Leask laughed at him. There was nothing else to say.

~xXx~

Morrigan was surprised how lonely it actually felt. There was no-one else anymore. While she had never sat at the communal fire, or slept near anyone else, there still the knowledge that they had been there, that there had been others. This time her journey was a long one, and there was no-one to share it with.

It had dawned on her very recently that she had never been truly alone. At times she had desired it, very much so. But in the background there had always been someone – first Flemeth, then Leask. And the others, of course, but Leask was always there. She threw some more wood on the fire and sat back against the tree, pulling her cloak tighter about herself. Her eyes slipped shut and she exhaled.

The dreams had began, as she had expected them too. Dreams of warmth and comfort, of protection and safety. At times she fancied she could hear the voices of the others, but knew in her mind that it was pure fantasy. After all, the children hadn't even developed ears yet. They were just conduits at the moment, sensations. Still, it was good in a way to still be connected to them, even though she couldn't physically be around them. She wondered what they were up to. She could picture them now in the Arl's estate, hanging out in Leask's room. People did tend to congregate around her. The assassin would be sat close to her, her filthy dog by her side. She could practically smell Oghren's foul breath –

"Foolish girl." She hissed at herself, shifting from her reverie and throwing unneeded wood on the fire. This had been the plan from the start. The fact that she had convinced Leask and the rest of them that Flemeth was out to get her was pure manipulation. She had done it hundreds of times before, to men, to women. Used them to get what she wanted and then discarded them. It would be a long, dull 10 months of waiting for the child, but she had no doubt that the stupid templar would deliver. The main worry would be Leask finding out. The elven woman was remarkably stubborn when she felt put upon, and it didn't take much to flare up her temper. Still, at the end of the day Morrigan was sure her plan couldn't go wrong.

But there was one thing she hadn't banked on.

~xXx~

Riordan struggled on. Despite his injuries, he had to reach the approaching Grey Wardens before they reached Denerim, or whatever was left of it. He'd crossed the river Dane, and was currently curled up in the back of a merchant's cart. It moved slowly, but it was faster than he could walk in his present state.

Gingerly he flicked back his cloak, and unrolled the bandage around his shin. The smell was monstrous, and although he had tried out every herbal poultice he knew, the warden really needed a healer to cast some magic over it.

His fall from the arch demon had only dazed him. Truth was, the beast hadn't been all that high off the ground and his fall had been broken by Vhenadahlin the alienage. Thank the Maker for those elves and their outdated beliefs. It wasn't until the Alienage had been cleared that he woke up to see Alistair and the assassin elf running past him. He had given chase, of course, and had arrived in time to watch Leask kill the arch demon. Part of him had longed to die in such a glorious way, to be remembered. But it wasn't he. It was her. Well, at least he had something to look forward to. A future.

He had been about to join Alistair to clear the remainder of the darkspawn when he spotted the witch. She was working a spell. Why was she working a spell? It had been at that moment, that precise moment, when the witch's eyes locked with his that he knew. _Something _ had passed him and into the elven warden. Something had been channelled from one to the other, and the force of it tore a tear in the fade which caused nothing but raw energy to come pouring out. It was that which had caused the explosion. It was in this explosion that flung him back and embedded a darkspawn dagger in his leg.

For a month now he had been travelling. From that day to this, as best he could. He knew the Orlisan wardens would be waiting for word, and he had to get to the camp before they reached Denerim without all the facts. For all he knew they would now be walking into a trap.

Gingerly he re-wrapped the bandage about his leg, tightening it. The smell was terrible – he was pretty sure gangrene had set in. Nevertheless, it couldn't be long now.

"Ser?" The merchant called over his shoulder as they crested a rise. "I can see a camp about three miles away, you think perhaps this is them?"

"Yes." Riordan said. "Please do not hesitate. There will be extra coin for you if we arrive before sun down."

The merchant cracked his whip over his oxen's backs, and the animals surged into their braces.

Soon, the Grey Wardens would know of the beast that was growing inside Leask's belly.

~xXx~

"You know, staring at it won't make it grow any bigger Alistair." Leask scolded him. The templar ignored her, kneeling on the floor in front of her, with his eyes focused on her belly. Shifting he laid his head upon the elf's naked stomach, pressing his ear to it. She went to speak, but he silenced her by raising one finger in the air. She suppressed a chortle of laughter.

"I can hear it growing." He teased, before kissing Leask's little baby bump and then the elf herself on the lips. "I must go, duty calls. Boring, boring duty. How come you get out of if just because your growing a baby inside you?"

"It also helps that I'm not the next in line to the throne until Anora reveals an heir, am I correct?" A grin touched her lips and she pulled her tunic back down over her belly

"Well...Yeeees." He concluded lamely, hands sliding from Leask's side to rest on the tiny, little, adorable baby bump. His thumbs passed over it in a massaging motion. "But then it'd be you, wouldn't it little one?" Alistair cooed to her belly. "If your daddy ever became king, Maker Forbid, you'd be a little prince or princess, wouldn't you? Yes you would!"

Leask sighed, and gently poked Alistair in the top of the head. "You're late already," She grinned as his eyes met hers. "Get out of here!" With a sigh, and one last kiss, Alistair left.

Laughing to herself Leask moved over to their bed, and continued to sort through the laundry she had done earlier that day. It wasn't the life she had been expecting to live, but the quiet humdrum of cooking, cleaning and gardening was a surprisingly welcome change from slaughtering darkspawn. They were living in a house that belong to Arl Eamon on the outskirts of Denerim. It was idyllic, almost, birds singing through the open window. It was within easy travelling distance to the city, so it wasn't like they were alone here either. Zevran stopped by at least once a day to check on her, often with her cousin Shianni in tow. Where they would go from here none of them had any idea.

She spent the morning taking care of chores – hanging clothes out to dry, feeding the chickens. Weeding out the vegetable patch. It was the closest thing she got to proper physical exercise these days – but at least she was out of the Alienage and not scrubbing someone else's floor. Well. Technically it was Arl Eamon's floor, but it was only the dirt she and Alistair tracked in. Alistair's life was dramatically different. While they waited for the wardens to arrive, he was building fences. While terrible at leading when faced with battle, Alistair made a surprisingly good politican, particularly when it came to the interests of the Grey Wardens. He was gentle enough that when he spoke his mind he did not seem forceful, but his own experiences and physical strength gave him the advantage of being able to lend weight. He had taken up the role of "leader" very eagerly when Leask expressed a desire against dealing with the politics of court. Days and weeks passed quietly and uninterrupted.

Standing up from weeding Leask stretched her back, hearing it pop back into place. Satisfied that her carrots were safe for now, she turned to back into the house. She had only just began to pull off her apron when a thundering at the door caught her attention. Turning she made for the door only for it to swing open, and to see Zevran standing there.

"Zevran?"

"My lady!" He was out of breath, a slight sweat on his forehead. Against that olive skin it looked odd, out of place. It wasn't dignified. He didn't allow her to respond or think, before he was in and pushing her towards the bedroom. "You have to flee, escape, run away."

"Zevran I don't...will you please explain?" She resisted his urgent motions, only to succumb instead as he hurriedly pulled open the chest of drawers, flinging clothes into a pack. His pack. Leask frowned at him.

"The Queen's men. They are coming for you, to lock you away until the Grey Wardens arrive."

"Lock me away, what? Zevran you're not making any sense!"

"There's no time to make sense. You have to trust me Leask." The elf packed swiftly, many clothes thrown in. He knew her far to well, moving now to her weapons chest and throwing her armour at her. "Quickly, put this on! Put your weapons on!"

As Leask began to pull the lightweight chainlink shirt over her head she watched Zevran disappear into the pantry, again hurriedly throwing some supplies into the pack. She had only just strapped on her dagger baldric when he returned, grabbing her wrist and pulling her through the house outside.

A bay horse stood, waiting patiently for it's master to return. She recognised it as the gelding Zevran had bought with his share of the loot from the groups adventures after the death of the Arch Demon. It was a glorious, proud animal. Despite having had two or three lessons from Zevran, Leask was still not at ease with the creature, but it looked at her expectantly. Zevran led her over to it, and before she could protest she had been lifted onto the horses back.

"Do you remember where we met?" He asked, moving around behind her to affix the pack onto the horse's back.

"Where you ambushed us? Yes."

Zevran grinned, the pack secure he looked up at her from the ground. "You were a vision that day, Leask." He said, patting her on the thigh. "In that place, against the cliff edge there is a cave. I camped there for several days waiting for you to show – there are still supplies in there. Go there, and wait. I will try to get to you and explain everything. Foxy here will take fine care of you, remember the lesson I taught you about keeping your heels down and not gripping with your knees."

Before Leask could reply, Zevran raised one hand and hit the horse on it's quarters. Bunched up and surprised, it bolted for the tree line, Leask clinging on grimly in an attempt not to hit the floor. The fingers of one hand tangled within the horse's black mane, her other holding onto the reins and attempting to drag the horse back to a slower pace. He ignored her, wild with his run. She glanced over her should just in time to see some of Anora's personal guard approach the house, and Zevran spread his hands to them in a greeting.

And then she was in the trees.


	3. To The Forest

**Good Intentions. **

**Chapter Three**

**To the Forest. **

"No, no mages, no chantry. Only Grey Wardens. We'll find our own servants." Alistair was in another meeting. He had never realised it, but he actually had a talent for organisation. It was incredibly dull, this much was true, but he did have a talent for organising things. Like food. And trade. And cleaners. On the other hand, it was extremely boring and he was pretty sure Leask would be much better at him at it.

Bann Teagan nodded, "Agreed, I suppose you are perfectly trustworthy yourselves. But whoever ends up commander of the Ferelden wardens will effectively become the Arl of Aramanthine." He went on to say, lifting his goblet of watered down wine and wetting his mouth. "And it would be nice to know who that is, so we could start on the paperwork."

"Honestly Teagan, I don't know if Leask would even accept the position if she was offered it. I don't really intend on having that level of responsibility just yet, and I'm pretty sure the other wardens have plenty of more deserving candidates, honestly, I can;t answer the question. All I can tell you is the sort of things we'll be needing, and how we'll go about it. And like I said, the most important thing is making sure we're self sufficient from the get go..."

"Alistair, we would not abandon the Grey Wardens to survive their first winter alone, hell, even the services you can offer in rooting out darkspawn--"

Teagan was interrupted by the door opening. In walked Captain Stewart – he was a tall man, only recently promoted and very much a member of the Queen's guard. He had a serious look on his face, and was flanked by three foot soldiers. "Sorry to intrude Bann Teagan." The man said, before bowing, and he presented Alistair with a slip of paper. Taking it his eyes glanced over the cursive writing and came to rest on the queen's seal at the end.

"This...Is a warrant for my arrest." The Warden concluded, handing it over to Bann Teagan when he was gestured. "And what, exactly is my crime?"

"Suspicion of aiding in blood magic." Stewart was obviously not happy about his assignment – he's eyes held too tightly onto Alistair's, the Grey Warden's wrath an obvious concern. Alistair was about to speak when Bann Teagan spoke for him.

"This can't be! What ludicrous person is making this accusation?"

"I'm sorry Ser, I don't know. This order came directly from the Queen herself. Please don't resist arrest Ser," the Captain's eyes had moved back to Alistair. "Queen Anora would like to keep this as quiet and as discreet as possible."

Alistair exchanged a glance with Teagan. The man shrugged. "It would probably be best if you went quietly Ali," He said. "I'll go speak to Eamon about this, and he'll take it up with Anora. Something about this isn't right at all."

Alistair nodded, and stood up from his chair. "I bet you wouldn't be arresting me if I was king, Captain Stewart."

"No Ser." The guard said nervously. Alistair sighed, no-one laughed at his jokes anymore."Can you make sure someone sends a message to Leask? That I've gone quietly and that this whole thing will be straightened out? Last thing needed is her getting into a temper..."

Alistair was walked to the royal palace, and taken down into the dungeon's. At least the cell he was given was large, spacious and clean. His tongue flickered over his lips and he sat down on the cot, leaning back against the stone wall. The captain closed the door behind him with a sort of finality, locking it up tight. The warden flashed him a smile, "Any chance of a book? Even an almanac will do...?" Without another word the captain left. "I guess that's a no then!" Alistair shouted after him, before sighing.

Something wasn't right. And he was too bewildered to run. Aiding in blood magic? If anything, he would've been one of the first to dispel it, never mind aid in it. And how did one go about aiding in blood magic anyway? His hand lifted to pull through his close cropped hair, and the warden sighed. He leant forward resting his elbows on his knees, and hoped that it was all just some sort of gigantic misunderstanding.

Hours passed. During that time he was brought a meal of bread, cheese and a glass of milk. The cheese was acceptable, the bread passable and the milk undrinkable. It lay sat in a corner of the cell, and he had started to amuse himself by un-threading the poor example of a blanket that they had provided him with.

A commotion caught his attention. Hazel eyes shifted to the entrance to the dungeon, where the door was opening. "This one's a freakin live one!" Came the voice of a guard, "Where shall we chuck him?"

"Cell number three will do." Came the reply from the door guard as he unlocked it.

Alistair was shocked to see Zevran dragged in by two guards. His hands and feet were bound, and he was unceremoniously tossed into the cell next to him. He hit the floor with a thump, and one of the guards went in, cutting the bonds around his ankles and feet.

"What, this is as far as your game goes gentlemen? But I was so looking to a climatic ending of writhing bodies!" The cell door was slammed n the Antivan's face, and the guards made a hasty retreat. Shifting to sit with his legs crossed, Zevran rubbed at his wrists, and then his ankles.

"Zevran?" Alistair moved across his cell to the bars that separated their cages. "What on Thedas are you doing here?"

"Alistair, my friend!" Zevran looked genuinely happy to see the warden. Shifting he also moved across the cell to hold one of the bars in his hand. "It is unfortunate that you have ended up in here. I had hoped that my plan would be a little more successful, but alas one works with what one is presented with, yes? Our dear lady is safe."

Initially, Zevran's insistence of Leask being 'their' lady had annoyed Alistair. It implied a familiarity with Leask that had not sat well with the warden, but as the days and weeks and months had gone past, he had gotten used to it. It was clear Zevran adored her, for whatever reasons.

"Zevran, I don't understand." Alistair went on. "what's going on? I've been arrested under suspicion of aiding a bloodmage – why are you here, and why is it important that Leask is safe?"

The elf leant back a little ways, frowning at the warden. "You truly don't know?" His voice surprised. His face was surprised.

"Truly."

"The Grey Wardens know of your child." The elf went on to explain, starting to pull off his boot and examine the sole. He spoke softly, quietly, in a conspiratorial manner. "They are aware that you are both Grey Wardens. Now, do not be asking me to explain how they know, or why they feel the need to be imprisoning you, but they sent word to Anora that this had happened and they wanted you and Leask detained. One of my...friends who works closely with Anora was kind enough to alert me. I had time to get our lady to safety, but alas I was rather relying on you being capable of looking after yourself."

While he spoke, the Anitvan had popped off the heel of his boot. Within had been contained three small vials of what were undoubtedly some of Zevran's own concoctions. They had been sat down neatly upon the ground and the boot reassembled.

"You mean the Grey Warden's from Orlais?" Was Alistair's reply, "How on earth do they know? Not even Eamon knows, or anyone...really..."

"Did I not just say that I do not have the answer to that question?"

Alistair sighed, tongue darting over his lips. "So what now?"

"Now, we escape."

"How? We are locked in a cell."

Zevran turned and flashed Alistair a grin. "Watch and learn, templar, watch and learn." He picked up two of his vials, one which he popped open and swiftly drank. For a moment he was perfectly well, then the next he was quite loudly vomiting in the corner of his cell. Alistair wasn't entirely certain what he was meant to be learning from all of this, aside from the fact that not even Zevran looked particularly elegant when he was chucking up.

The elf seemed to recover quickly enough, and then rooted about in his vomit.

"Aw, that's just plain nasty." Alistair observed, until under his nose was thrust a key.

"The best way to smuggle something in, my friend Alistair, is to put it where they can't get at it." A grin flickered over the Antivan's lips, and then he headed back to his cell door, through which he threw another vial. It soared easily through the air and crashed to the ground in front of the guard's feet. A mist began to rise up, so fine it wasn't noticeable until he had inhaled it. Quietly, uneventfully, the man sank to the ground in a heap. Swiftly, Zevran unlocked his own cell door before unlocking Alistair;s and letting the man out. He moved over to the unconscious guard and divested him of his sword, dagger and keys. The sword he nimbly tossed to Alistair, who caught it. It was a weighty blade, balanced but unrefined. A slight smile touched his lips as he swung the blade, loosening his shoulders.

"I've missed using a sword..." He muttered, as Zevran quickly divested the poor guard of any valuables about his person.

"There is nothing like the thrill of combat, yes?" The assassin agreed, unlocking the door to the dungeon. "Even sex is a very different sort of pleasure. I know I would personally find the life of a farmer extraordinarily dull." Opening the door, the elf tossed through his third and final vial, and motioned for Alistair to cover his mouth. They did so, and a few seconds later heard the thumps of several other bodies hitting the deck.

"I've just had a thought though." Alistair said as Zevran opened the door and led the way out. "Surely my escaping will just make myself look even more guilty?"

"Alistair, from what I understand about you Grey Wardens, is that you tend to frown on anything even vaguely connected with the darkspawn and the taint, including yourselves. I also remember, hearing once upon a time, that you wardens only successfully have children among yourselves with the aid of magic, yes?"

"Where did you hear that?!" Alistair exclaimed, only for Zevran to raise one finger up to his mouth to silence him.

"Be quiet, you great oaf." He snapped. "We're trying to escape. I will attempt to answer your questions when we are not quite so under the threat of imminent death."

"Fine." Growled Alistair, before grabbing the elf's elbow and leading him down a corridor. "There's a hatch that leads to the sewers down this corridor I'm sure." Gingerly the pair of the crept down the corridor, before reaching the hatch. As Alistair said, it led into the sewers.

"This is not going to be my most dashing escape, by any means." The elf said as he clambered down the ladder behind Alistair. The stench was simply awful. Zevran visibly grimaced as he stepped down into the muck behind Alistair.

"It's very dark and smelly down here." He commented.

"Well....yes. I take it you didn't happen to swallow a torch or something?"

"No, it gives me...how do you say, heartburn?" Zevran grinned, reaching forward and patting Alistair on the shoulder. "Come, it must exit the castle somewhere. We shall walk in a straight line and hopefully abscond before anyone notice's our absence."

~xXx~

Foxy finally slowed in his run, and Leask was finally able to orientate herself in the forest. Having grown up in the city she had never really mastered the art of navigating among trees – typically she had relied on Zevran for that. And sadly, he wasn't there. Sighing she let out the reins, and rubbed her hands over her face as the horse reached out his neck and snorted.

"You're just as tired as I am, I'll bet." She mumbled to the creature, before there was the sound of a familiar bark.

She turned around, green eyes hunting through the undergrowth. "Billy?" The elf shouted, gently drawing the horse to a halt. There was another bark as a response, and then the sounds of low level plants being squashed underfoot. Her mabari came bounding out, overjoyed to see her and wagging his tail furiously. Foxy turned his head and snorted at the dog, stomping one hoof as a warning but not moving from where he stood. She leant forward and gently ran one hand down his neck. "Easy old fella." She said. "He's a good dog, won't hurt you."

With that she kicked her feet from the stirrups and slid off – Leask much preferred to walk anyway. Billy bounded over and she rubbed her hands affectionately over the dog's head. "We're in trouble Billy." She told him.

Billy's big brown eyes looked at her expectantly, and he plonked his rear on the ground. "And I don't know what sort of trouble it is. It had Zevran pretty spooked though, and that worries me."

The mabari whined, and reached out with one paw. His head tilted in comprehension and then the beast exhaled, looking further up the path.

Leask nodded. "Yes, I'm lost." She admitted. "Do you remember where Zevran ambushed us, and you bit his ankle?"

The dog barked happily, getting up to his feet. "Right then." The elf said. "You take point then, Foxy and I will bring up the rear." Billy trotted obediently ahead, dropping his nose to the ground before picking a direction. Rather than riding the horse, Leask loosened his girth, hitched the reins over his head and let him walk out. Stretching his long neck the horse shook his body before moving off, visibly relaxing. Leask wished she could do the same – her arse and legs were already aching. She envied Zevran and his natural grace in the saddle.

"_My dear, you are an elf. You will have a natural talent for it." Zevran reassured her, encouraging her closer. _

"_I'm not so sure." Leask said cautiously, allowing his hands on her hips to guide her. "I grew up in the city. I've only ever seen pictures of the creature in books." _

"_Ahh..." Zevran purred, lifting her hand to Foxy's muzzle, fingers pushing her's flat, tucking her thumb away. "But he is a fine, well mannered and spirited beast." the assassin went on, "He will not harm you." _

_Gently the horse lifted the slice of apple from her palm. His lips guiding the fruit into his mouth before satisfyingly crunching it. Leask grinned. "His whiskers tickle." Already the horse was looking for another titbit, and he nuzzled into her hand. His nose felt like velvet against her fingers, and bolder now she let her hand move up his nose to stroke his forehead. The horse dipped it's head, it's mouth seeking out the rest of the apple that Zevran proffered to it. The Antivan smiled, and then hooked the horse's bridle off his shoulder. He stepped to it's side and gently bitted the horse. _

"_It is time for your riding lesson." He announced, much to Leask's dismay. _

_She had fallen off three times, each time tumbling head over heels and at a trot. In the end, Zevran had resorted to putting a strap of leather about the horse's neck for her to cling too, but when she managed to find the rhythm of the rising trot – Maker was it beautiful. Everything seemed to suddenly click into place, her balance, her motions, she didn't even need to hold onto the strap anymore. Zevran explained that rather than just using her hands to guide the horse, that he would respond to the slightest movement in the saddle. A slight lean to the left and Foxy would start to move that way, she sat up straighter and he would slow his pace. All of this excited her, thrilled her. Zevran promised to teach her how to ride properly, and that he would help her buy a horse of her own when she was ready. _

Sadly, that day seemed a long way off. Leask sighed, running her hand through her hair as she continued to walk along behind her war hound. Foxy's footfalls were muffled and Leask let the sounds of the forest wash over her. The bird song, the slight breeze in the trees. The snuffling noises from Billy's nose as he picked one direction then the other. Her mind began to wander. She had never walked the forest alone – there had always been someone else. Alistair. Morrigan. Zevran. Oghren...

A smile touched her lips as she thought of the dwarf. He had written to her recently, or rather Felsi had. They had plans to open their own dwarven tavern somewhere, catering specifically for those surface bound dwarves with the hope of encouraging more trade. Wynne had returned to the circle tower and began to teach and train young mages again. Leliana had headed back to Orlais, unsure where her future lay, but determined to find out. Sten too had headed back to his homeland, ready to tell his people of the blight. He had opened an invitation for Leask to go with him, but she had declined, although she fully intended on taking it up when things had settled down. But, obviously, things had not settled down. They never were going to settle down now, were they? Less than three months after killing the arch demon, here she was.

Alone, and in the forest. Again.

The elf sighed, and kicked a pebble in front of her. Still, at least the dog knew where they were going. And the places around here were beginning to look familiar. They stepped out the forest and onto a trail. Ah, yes. She recognised this trail. It wasn't exactly well travelled these days, most people now stuck to the main routes as there was better protection from rogue darkspawn, but even that threat was lessening. Billy barked up ahead and ran forwards, disappearing off. Leask followed him around the bend off the track, heading towards the hill and the cliff face. There was a sharp turn and there it was – a cave set in the recess of the limestone. This must be the spot Zevran had been talking about.

She led Foxy in, the horse unnerved by the change in the surrounding. Leask didn't have to walk in far – she saw the old camp fire and abandoned packs. Billy had already laid himself down at preferred spot, and was looking at her expectantly. "Yes yes..." She said, waving a hand at him. "Let me tend to the horse first, and then I'll build the fire, alright?"

The dog whined at her and laid his head on his paws. Leask got to work, slipping the horse's bridle off and putting him in a halter. She removed his saddle and drove a stake into the ground which she then attached the rope to. The horse was obviously used to this sort of treatment, and stood happily while she vigorously brushed him down. She tossed a blanket over his back, and hooked up a nosebag for him.

Leask then turned her attention to the fire, lighting it with her flints and using the already stocked up woodpile. That done, she threw out a bedroll and sat down upon it. Billy moved over, and laid his head in her lap.

It was obvious Zevran had come back here since the blight had been ended. The wood pile was well stocked – more so than it would be for a group of people only spending one night. The fire had already been laid, ready to be lit. Against the far wall lay all the packs which had no doubt belonged to the crows that Zevran had brought with him. Idly she flicked through the pack – it was basic. Food, canteen of water, change of clothes. They had obviously not prepared themselves for a siege, or a long journey.

Exhaling again Leask sat back against the wall, wondering how long it would take for Zevran to catch her up and explain what was going on. Hopefully Alistair was OK – he'd have been at the palace so no doubt he'd be more aware of what was going on and hopefully able to do something about it.

~xXx~

"I don't know what I've got in my shoe, but I don't think I want to find out." Alistair grumbled as they hit the forest. The sewers had been a long arduous journey. It had taken them several hours in the end to wind up by a stream not far from the Denerim's city walls. Alistair had been grateful when they hit the fresh air. Currently he was wading into the stream in an attempt to wash some of the filth off.

Zevran grabbed his wrist and pulled momentarily in the direction of the other bank. "We'll wash later. We have to travel far from the city as quickly as possible."

Alistair glared at the elf as he nimbly hopped out the water, but followed anyway. "That's hardly fair, I don't see why I have to make the journey smelling of excrement."

"It will keep the wolves away," The assassin joked, smiling over his shoulder at the grey warden. "Don't worry my friend, I smell just as bad. Leask will be disgusted with us both."

Alistair crinkled his nose, clambering up the bank behind Zevran. "No, I think she'll be more grossed out by you, you still smell like puke too."

Zevran paused, turning around, his amber eyes catching Alistair's hazel ones. "Truly?" He mused, one hand lifting up and rubbing his chin. "That is interesting."

"It's disgusting you know." Alistair went on, walking past the elf. "Puke. Nasty smell."

The elf laughed, catching up with him and grinning. "Well, you will just have to get used to it in the end, won't you?" He teased, easily falling into pace with the Grey Warden and directing him a little to the left.  
"What do you mean?"

"Puke, and shit for that matter. In a few months you will be up to your elbows in it."

"I'm not following..."

"The baby Alistair! What do you think young babies do? Use the outhouse?"

"Oh no, really?"

"Yes my brilliant friend. You will be up to your eyes in it, and no doubt worse."

Alistair grimaced, and then sighed heartily. "The more I learn about babies, the less I'm sure I want one." He lamented.

Zevran only laughed again. It was his chuckle, the noise he made when he was incredibly amused by something. The grin over his face spread and he slapped Alistair on the back. "It's a bit late to be coming to that conclusion now anyway! I do advise however, not not watch the birth. It is not the beautiful miracle so many make it out to be."

"You've had many children yourself, Zevran?"

"No, no, well, perhaps, none have ever found me at any rate...But I have witnessed a few women give birth. Even helped. They were not my most enjoyable experiences."

They continued their walk through the forest. The moonlight was filtering through the trees and made it that little bit easier to navigate. Alistair still found his feet catching and stumbling now and again, but the assassin's feet always found solid purchase.

"How did you get involved in women giving birth anyway?" Alistair swatted a tree branch from his path.

"I grew up in a whorehouse Alistair, and small hands are very useful when it comes to untangling things in tight places."

"EW!"

They walked for hours. The conversation flowed and ebbed, and the walk was uneventful. Alistair actually relaxed and found he enjoyed the assassin's company, although Zevran still refused to tell him more details about the situation they were in, or where his information came from. He said he would explain all when they met up with Leask. Eventually they reached an area which Alistair recognised. "Hey, this is where you attacked us!"

"A memorable location, no?" Zevran grinned, leading the way to the cliff face, and along it's path. The elf must've let his guard down or something, because he stepped into a trap. There was the twang of a mechanism being set off, and suddenly he was hauled up in the air and left to hang upside down. He yelled out in surprise, arms flailing. "Andraste's Cunt!" Zevran exclaimed, and then that was when Alistair, who had stood stock still, saw her.

She was standing a little ways down the path, an arrow notched to her short bow, and was pointing it right at himself and Zevran.

"Leask!" Alistair exclaimed, "Thank the Maker you're alright."

"Alistair?" She replied, a smile broadening on her face. The dog left her side and came bounding over happy to see him, that was until he got too close. Then the dog hesitated and backed away slowly, letting out a long whine.

Zevran was still swinging back and forth, and he twisted around to wave at Leask. "I see you have remembered the lessons I taught you well my lady."

"Oh fuck!" Leask laughed, dropping her short bow and going for her dagger, "Zevran I'm sorry, I didn't realise it was my boys." She rushed forward to the trap, slicing swiftly through the rope, letting the assassin fall to the ground with a thump. She made to move to Alistair and then recoiled, clasping her hands over her mouth.

"Oh Maker!" The city elf gagged, backing away from them. "You two REEK! Where have you been?"

"It's a long story love," Alistair sighed, "Is there anywhere we can wash?"

Zevran was getting to his feet, and nodded. "Over to the west there, there's a river. I'll just grab some soap." The assassin turned around and disappeared into the cave, leaving Leask and Alistair alone. She offered him a smile. "I'd give you a hug but you...uh, stink of shit."

Alistair laughed, and tilted his head. "Yea, I know. I understand completely. How are you?"

"I'm good, confused as hell, but there you go. No doubt Zev will explain himself once he's washed. Have you guys eaten?" Leask knelt down to reset the trap.

"No, actually. Now you mention it I'm starving."

"I'll put something together. When you head to the river watch out for the leg hold traps I've set up that way, and the trip wire half way down the hill."

"Paranoid much?"

"Well....you can never be too careful." Leask chuckled. "Enjoy your bath." And with that she headed back into the cave, and built up the fire again. Zevran reappeared with the soap and some changes of clothes for them both, and they went to bathe. The water was cold, but at least they managed to rid themselves of the stink of the sewers. The clothes they just bundled up to bin, pulling on the clean, if slightly musty smelling spare clothes from the cave. Feeling infinitely more human they walked back to the campfire, where the smell of roasting meat greeted them. Alistair's mouth watered as he sat down next to Leask, peering at the impromptu spit which was roasting. Leask turned it. "What is it?" Alistair asked.

"Pheasant. Billy caught a few at dusk."

Alistair wrapped one arm about Leask's shoulders, drawing her closer and kissing the top of her head. "You smell much better now." She observed. The warden chuckled and poked her in the side. "Oh...be quiet you." Was his retort.

Zevran was standing in front of Foxy, the horse's head in his hands, fingers running lovingly over the beast's cheeks. "I trust you were good to our Lady, Foxy?" He said softly, a smile playing on his lips. "Treat her well?"

Leask answered for the horse. "He was the perfect gentleman Zevran. I hope I've set him up OK after though?"

The assassin nodded, fingers trailing down the horses nose. He then moved to check the horse's blanket, tightening it just a little. "You did well my lady. He is most comfortable." He settled at the fire, crossing his legs and leaning in to look at the fire. He was aware that two pair of eyes were focused on him intently, and he closed his eyes and sighed.

"I assume you are both looking for an explanation?" He answered, opening first one eye and then the other to focus on the pair of them. Alistair nodded, "Well, it;d be nice. No pressure or anything."

Zevran chuckled, and spread his hands. "It is not the news we wanted to hear, no?" The elf began. "Ever since the arch demon was slain, I have kept a vigil. I know you both have been caught up in your lives catching up with you, but I suddenly found myself floundering, without a purpose. I took it upon myself to guard your interests, Leask. Since you are one of those interests Alistair, it also meant I have inadvertently been watching yours as well. I have many connections left from my time with the crows – most of these formed through coin, but then the loyalty that gold can bring is often more secure than those of friendship. Anyway, I digress."

"Word came to me that the Grey Warden's had reached the border of Ferelden. But with it came a messenger, an advance scout who brought a special request to Anora that the two of you be detained, by any means possible. Naturally, she didn't want anything to be particularly public but in some ways it was made very easy by your avoidance of the lime light. Neither of you are really the type to be living in the public eye, so your own seclusion made it easier. As soon as I was aware that warrants for your arrest were subtly made public, I made it my duty to set up an escape. Especially when I realised that it was because of your child that this was happening – I figured that if they were asking for you to be detained, it was nothing but trouble. So I put my...contingency plan into action."

Zevran's story was greeted with silence. Leask lifted the pheasant off the fire, and set it to cool. Alistair couldn't wait for it to cool and went to peel off some meat, burning his fingers in the process.

"So what is your contingency plan then Zevran?" Leask asked, when no further explanation was forth coming.

"Well, you are both wanted people. And after my display with the guards who came for you my lady, I am also. My plan is that we wait here until we know more about why the Grey Wardens want you detained, and what they intend for you. Then, depending on what that is, we run, or we return." Zevran also reached for the bird, peeling some meat off himself and starting to eat it hungrily.

Alistair nodded, and then spoke up. "It is entirely possible that their intentions, while not hostile, are not exactly warm and fuzzy towards the baby. A child between two Grey Warden's is not unheard of, but is extremely rare." And not without the aid of magic, but Alistair didn't mention that.

Leask nodded, tongue darting over her lips. She had already eaten that day, so was content to leave the bird to 'her boys' to eat. Billy sat to the side, staring intently at both Alistair and Zevran, occasionally lifting a paw in a begging motion. Without thinking, Alistair passed the odd piece to the dog. No wonder he begged.

"Indeed." Zevran said between mouthfuls. "Nevertheless, I am confident we can evade capture until meeting your fellow wardens is on our terms, and not theirs."

Leask sighed, getting up and wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. "I wish we had more communication with the other Wardens, then perhaps we might have the faintest idea what was going on. I'll take the first watch, then once you boys have finished eating I'll turn in." She offered them a smile and headed towards the cave entrance.

Later, as Alistair stood his watch, and Leask lay sleeping, he was joined by the silent assassin. Alistair wasn't sure when he had learnt to hear Zevran's approach, but many nights stood watch had given him the ability to just tune out all the other noises and pick up on those that _weren't _ there. Zevran was an expert at stealth, but it was the silence that gave him away.

"Is Leask still asleep?" Alistair said softly, his eyes peering out at the forest wrapped in night.

"Yes," Zevran replied, stepping up next to the warden. "With her hound lying next to her."

"Good." Alistair's eyes glanced at the assassin, whose eyes were fixed ahead.

"There is more to this situation that what I told you earlier." He admitted, one hand lifting to rub the back of his neck. "My sources tell me that Riordan travels with the rest of the Wardens."

Alistair's eyes widened. "But...But he should be dead."

"So should our lady." Zevran pointed out, his eyes finally fixing onto Alistair's. "I do not know what you did, Alistair. I do not know what you asked Morrigan to do, but I suggest you tell Leask sooner rather than later. I imagine it is the sort of information that she should not hear from other sources."

Alistair sighed. The elf was right. He need to tell Leask the truth – after all, the deal with Morrigan had come at a price. A price he now realised that was probably too high, one now that he now knew he couldn't pay.

* * *

_I would like to thank all you folks who are sitting there reading my story. ^_^ It's really inspiring me to write more! I really hope you guys are enjoying this – if you are, drop me a review and let me know! And if you're not, let me know too. All criticism is honestly gratefully received, I'm doing this to better my writing! _

_I also want to thank Mousemage for letting me bounce ideas off her all the time, and to point you towards her fab Cullen/Amell fic if you haven't trundled over to read it already. Thanks again guys! Chapter four is going to be a fun chapter for me to write anyway, been looking forward to that one. _


	4. Best Laid Plans

**Good Intentions**

**Chapter Four**

**Best Laid Plans. **

She had been travelling for what felt like forever. It had been non-stop since she left, and now, her ascent up the mountain seemed to go on. They were not like the mountain's in Ferelden. They were crueller, dryer, and infinitely more dusty. Pausing in her climb she pulled her scarf tighter about her face, the sun beating down mercilessly on her pale shoulders.

Morrigan once again cursed under her breath, leaning upon her staff as she caught her breath. The air was thin up here, but the heat of the hill was not alleviated by the altitude at all. They weren't quiet high enough for snow in this desert heat. She felt at her side for her water canteen, taking a deep swig of warm water.

She'd been travelling since the battle with the arch demon in Denerim. By foot, by air, by boat. A lone woman often went unnoticed, a lone animal even less so. She had ran with the rats across the waking sea, galloped through the woods as a wolf. Flown over the desert on the wings of an eagle. But here, here she could not use her powers. He would disapprove of her flouting them so, He would scold her and dismiss her for not facing the challenge before her.

Morrigan glanced up at the cliff face before her. A thin path wound it's way along to the peak, and she could just make out the entrance to the cave. Her resolve stiffened, and she forced tired feet onwards. Sweat pricked at her brow, between her shoulders, down her chest, but still she trudged along the path.

The journey had not been kind to the wilds witch. Her skin was littered with small cuts and bruises, her lips were chapped and under her yellow eyes were great bags. She was exhausted, physically and mentally. But she could see the end now, and this gave her strength. The promise of cool water, a soft bed and good food gave her the energy she needed. With grim determination set on her features, Morrigan climbed the last stretch of the pathway, a smile curling the corner of her lips as she finally, finally, stepped into the cool of the cave.

A great sigh fell from her lips as the coolness washed over her, instantly easing the hot prickling on her skin. It was glorious. A deep sigh turned into a soft laugh, one hand lifting to flip her hood back from her head. One hand pulled the light scarf from her mouth, using it to wipe her brow before tucking it into the folds of her belt. For a second she glanced about, almost nervous, before shrugging off her pack and delving within the bag. Her fingers closed around it, tentatively pulling it out and unfolding it from it's cloth. It was the beautiful gold framed mirror that Leask had found for her. Lord only knows where she found it, stole it, perhaps, but Morrigan checked her appearance in it anyway, fussing with her hair. Fingers combed through her fringe, settling it just so, before smoothing her hair back into a neater ponytail. Then she rubbed at the bags under her eyes, checked her jawline and neck for any blemishes, which were wiped away with the scarf before packing it away and standing up straight.

She had not reached her goal yet. She still had a journey through the caves in front of her, and that would not exactly be an easy test. He would be testing her all the way, as He always did. She pulled her pack about her shoulders, and once again picked up her staff.

"Right." She said to the cool air, knowing full well that he was watching. "Lets see what you throw at me this time, Arach." A grin pulled at her lips, and Morrigan moved off.

~xXx~

The wardens had entered Denerim. While their numbers were not great, there was enough that the majority of the group had to camp outside the city. A small number were escorted to the palace by the guard. Anora stood on the steps of her palace, dressed in a simple, but practical dress. Her hands were clasped loosely in front of her. Arl Eamon stood beside her as they watched the procession of Grey Wardens walk along the avenue.

They were not what she expected. Her experience of Grey Wardens was pretty limited, if she was truthful, but she had been expecting more of a ragtag group like the one Alistair and Leask had been leading. But it was clear that these men, and possibly women, were much more disciplined. The group consisted of about ten individuals, all walking in pairs. They were lead by one man, whose armour was adorned with the griffon on his chest. He wore the same ceremonial robes that she recalled Duncan wearing, but he wore a helm. His sword was strapped across his back and he walked with a purpose. He climbed the stairs and stopped before her. His troop came to a halt and saluted in perfect timing.

He bowed to her before removing his helm.

"Queen Anora." His Orlesian accent was thick. "I am Commander Warden Joachim." His black hair was streaked with grey, and his eyes a green that was unforgiving like a gemstone. Features that had seen too many battles, too much death were fixed in a semi frown at her. Joachim's jaw was square, and his stubble un-groomed and messy.

"An honour to meet you, Commander." She said, offering him a bow in return. "I offer you the hospitality of my home – your men can rest and eat, as we discuss business. Of course, you are welcome to refresh yourself before we get down to it."

"That is very kind, your majesty." Joachim replied, stepping forward to walk with her as they entered the castle. "And I may very well take you up on that offer, I trust that our Ferelden Wardens have been detained?"

This was the question Anora had dreaded. "I'm afraid that is not an easy question to answer, Commander..."

~xXx~

Morrigan dived to the left, avoiding the cone of cold that blasted from the stone carved dragon. She rose swiftly to her feet, throwing an arcane blast at the statue, causing it to erupt into a shower harmless rocks. Her hair was ruined. Her face was streaked with sweat, mud and the blood of darkspawn.

Darkspawn! Where on Thedas did that bastard get Darkspawn? She growled, turning her attention to the next trap.

In front of her stood stone slab. It was engraved with all sorts of strange eldrich runes she recognised, but did not recall. The light did not make it easy to see, so with a crack of her staff upon the ground she produced an orb of light, which the witch used to scan the writing.

"Hmm..." She mused aloud to herself. " 'Tis not a language used by any that mother taught me. So, logically it is either one that you know, or one that you have made up." For several moments more the witch stood, peering at the tablet, before reaching a conclusion.

"You have me searching for meaning where there is none." She said aloud, knowing he was listening. "You slap elvish for Griffon on it to make me think that it has something to do with the Grey Wardens, but the rest is a pile of nonsense. I am finished with your tiresome puzzles." Morrigan summoned one final fire ball, and destroyed the stone tablet in front of her.

She felt the change. She felt the air around her tingle with his power, and could hear the stone changing and turning and twisting. Closing her eyes Morrigan let out a long sigh of relief. The warmth of a fire formed to her left, heating her through and she could hear him pouring something.

As she opened her eyes she noticed that the room had changed. It always did, she didn't know how he did it and he refused to tell her, but this was how he made his entrance.

It was a large room. Clearly carved out of the mountain. A fire burned away in an alcove, and throughout the room were piles and pile of books. There was desk in the room, somewhere, but he was sat there on couch, a book open on his knees and a pot of tea sitting on a low table.

His dark eyes fixed upon her yellow ones. Morrigan smiled and moved towards him, shrugging off her pack and resting her staff against the wall.

"Everything to your satisfaction?" She cocked an eyebrow and sank into the soft chair opposite him.

He was not a tall man, but nor was he a short one. His shoulders were broad, his body obviously muscled under his black clothing. Black hair fell loose about his shoulder, and dark eyes were fixed on her under strong brows. His nose was a little too large, his cheeks a little too sunken, his jaw a little too square. A slight smile played on pale lips, his skin the pale of someone who never saw the light. He set aside his book with long fingers, shifting from where he was reclining on the couch to lean forward with his elbows on his knees.

"It is done?" It was his voice. It always sent shivers down Morrigan's spine. It was like a panther's purr. Happy, but with bite.

"Tis, but not the way we originally envisioned."

"Oh?"

"There was another. Another warden. A female elf."

His silence unnerved her. It made her nervous.

"He did not take charge, the old warden, Duncan, died in the battle at Ostagar. The young one was not able to lead, and the elf took up the position of leader. She laid the final blow. She is carrying his children."

He leant back, and steepled his fingers. Dark eyes watched her carefully over his nails. Morrigan found herself floundering, desperately trying to remember why she had used her initiative and taken this route.

"This way, there are two children. One will carry the soul of the old god, and the other can stay with Alistair and Leask. She will no doubt struggle through the birth. If I am there I can make sure she is not aware she is having twins, and she will never look for the second child. The father gave me his word."

He offered her up a long silence, and then shook his head. "Morrigan, Child, it is not that simple. You must bring her here, so that we might convince her raising the child under our guidance will be the best thing for it. If the Wardens become aware that two of their kind managed to successfully carry a child to term...."

"I know father I know..." Morrigan sighed, rubbing her hands over her face. "Then the First will stop at nothing to gain the old gods power for himself. I know, I know."

She could hear him pouring the tea. It was such an odd, strange thing for the man to do. He was so immeasurably powerful, he could fell cities with a wave of his hand. She didn't know how old he was, he carried more mystery for her than her mother ever did. And yet, here he was, one hand preventing the teapot lid from clattering to the floor. Pouring tea, into delicate cups with cold leaf around the rim and a floral pattern on them. A floral pattern!

He sat back, taking his tea cup with him and inhaling the scent. A slight smile played across his pale lips, before his dark eyes focused on Morrigan again. "After you have finished your tea you should bathe. You've got darkspawn viscera in your hair."

"...Yes father..." The Witch of the Wilds muttered.

~xXx~

"Escaped?" Joachim declared, his green eyes focused intently on Anora. "How on Thedas did that fool escape?"

"He is hardly a fool," Eamon felt the need to defend Alistair. "He did manage to fend of a Blight without your aid."

Joachim glared at Eamon, and Anora waved a hand to silence the Arl. "We believe they had the assistance of an assassin. He used to be a crow before he was recruited by the elf. When my guards went to the house Arl Eamon had them living in, Leask was gone and the elf in her place. He caused such a scene that my guards had no choice but to bring him in. Somehow Zevran managed to release himself, and escape with Alistair."

The Queen sighed, frowning at the Grey Warden. "They must've of known that you were coming for them. We tried to arrest them under false charges, but they escaped anyhow. I am sorry." She folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes at the warden. "So, now would you mind telling me why you demanded we detained the Hero of Ferelden?"

She exhaled, raising her eyebrows and fixing Joachim with a look. Yes, she was mostly out for her own interests. Her interests were her people, and ruling them justly. She knew Alistair was not a threat to her power – she also knew that Leask wasn't either. In fact, if she had played her cards right they both would've been excellent political puppets. Arresting them had been the very last thing she had wanted to do.

Joachim glowered at her silently. "We have reason to suspect that they have broken the warden's code." Was the only answer he gave. His tongue flickered out over his lips and he stood, finally. "If you'll excuse me, I would like to take you up on the offer of bathing and eating. I need to discuss with my men what we should do next." He nodded, and left.

Once she was sure they were out of earshot, she looked to Eamon.

"What could they have done that is so terrible?" Anora asked softly. "They did help to slay an Arch Demon after all, ending a Blight. You would think that they would receive a little respect."

The old man frowned, and rubbed the back of his neck. "I think I can hazard a guess...

_Alistair was terrible at keeping secrets. Esspecially when it was good news. Eamon had of course raised the boy as one of his own, and so was an expert at knowing when Alistair was concealing something. The lad was sitting at their chess table, arms folded, hazel eyes staring intently at the pieces on the board. One leg jiggled. _

_Since the Blight had ended, Eamon had been quick to invite Alistair back into his life. The lad had been all to happy to agree, and since Connor's death he had helped with the pain just a little. It was pleasant just to have someone interested in his stories again, to offer advice to. They had quickly resumed their weekly game of chess, only this time it often involved copious amounts drinking too. Eamon drained his wine glass, and poured himself another while topping up Alistair's. _

"_How are things between you and your elf?" He asked, leaning back in his chair. _

"_I wish you wouldn't refer to her as 'my elf'" Alistair said, glancing up, his fingers hovering over a pawn. "She's her own elf, I just happen to be in love with a wonderful *person*.Her name is Leask." The lad looked up and grinned, before his fingers placed a rook in a rather strategic position. "Check." _

"_Blast!" Eamon set his glass down, and leant over to peer at the board. "When did you get good at Chess boy?" He growled, flabbergasted that Alistair might beat him for once. _

"_Maybe you've just gotten worse?" He teased, lifting his own wine glass and taking a heady sip. He fidgeted with the glass before setting it down. Legs still jiggling. He shifted in his chair, and then got up out of it to wander over to the window, peering out at it. It was obscenely distracting. There was only one move the Arl could make, so he flicked the king down in defeat. "I surrender. You win Alistair. Now tell me, what's got you so wound up?" _

_The youth turned from the window, and shook his head. "I can't." He began, letting out a sigh and a slight pout. "It wouldn't be fair if it came to nothing. But it might. And it's glorious!" _

_Eamon took a long swig of his wine. "What, is it something so precious you can't tell your uncle?" _

"_No no no no!" Alistair raised his hands, gesticulating wilding and shaking his head. The broad smile kept creeping over his lips. He paused, and then grinned even wider. "Well...I suppose I could. So long as you promise to keep it to yourself! And that's a proper promise, not one of your...'I promise Alistair' and then running off and not keeping it." While he spoke, Alistair had walked back to the table, and sat down upon his chair. _

_Eamon waited patiently, knowing full well now that Alistair had made up his mind, he would spill all eventually. Alistair leaned forward conspiratorially over the chessboard. Eamon found himself doing likewise. _

"_Leask's pregnant." Alistair's grin split his face in two. He leant back, throwing his hands up in the air to slap them down onto his thighs. "I'm going to be a father!" _

_Eamon laughed, "Congratulations my boy!" He stood up, stepping around the table to pull the boy to his feet and drag him into a hug. He slapped the lad on the shoulder, and then the side of neck affectionately. "A father! How fantastic."_

_Alistair nodded. "Well, we're not announcing it yet. Only Leask's family knows, and some of our closest friends. It's early days, of course, and Leask is petrified she won't carry to term..." The youth shrugged, his smile fading for a moment but then returning. "But I'm confident." _

"_It's a big responsibility, a child." Eamon chuckled, as the two of them sat down again. He topped up the glasses, and raised his own in a toast. "To fatherhood!" _

_Alistair raised his glass too, and then they both drank. "To fatherhood." He echoed. "On that note, actually." He went on, setting down his glass. "I was wondering, if you would perhaps consent to be their Life Guardian?" _

Eamon sighed again, and rubbed his hands over his face. "There is one thing, perhaps, that they might disapprove of. But being a Grey Warden I am not privy to knowing such matters. Nevertheless, unless they give us full disclosure of their crimes, I suggest we do not get any further involved."

Anora frowned. "But what if what they have done is truly terrible? I though the Grey Wardens went by a code of any means necessary to stop a Blight. What could they have done to anger them so?"

"I do not know, your majesty. However, you must remember that these people saved our lives, and our people's lives. I would much prefer to hear Alistair and Leask's side of the story first before we hand them over without question."

"Agreed." Anora said softly, her eyes searching Eamon's face for answers, and finding none. 


	5. Across the Waking Sea

"Watch your feet!"

"I'm watching them!"

"No, don't look at them, watch them!"

"I AM!"

Alistair watched as Leask landed a vicious kick to the back of Soris' knee, causing it to crumble and the elf to collapse to the ground. She then swiftly, and without hesitation, cracked her makeshift wooden dagger to the back of his head. It was a stick. A sturdy stick, but a stick nonetheless. Soris, Leask's cousin, groaned and refused to get up.

"That was dirty fighting!"

"Of course it is, you think Darkspawn care about etiquette?"

They'd been living in the woods for about two weeks now. Leask had sent for her family – Cyrion, Shianni, Soris. It was for practical uses as much as the desire to have her family close – they did not have easily recognised faces, or known ones, so could easily head in and out Denerim for supplies and information. Leask had taken upon herself to teach them all how to fight – something most of her family had a basic knowledge of. Soris, a naturally talented archer, seemed to be struggling with the close combat. Leask was trying to help him.

Soris frowned and sat, wiping the mud off his face and glaring. With a grin Leask offered her hand to help him up. "Listen, I know it's easy to think that the only people we'll be fighting will be humans, but the darkspawn don't care about form and the rules of combat – they'll attack in the night, bite your ankles, use poison, so long as they can hack and slash, they'll be able to bring you down unless you bring them down first, and quickly."

Soris dusted off his breeches, and then stood up. "I get it, I get it..." He sighed, "I just can't think quick enough cousin. When there is distance I can cope, but..." Soris trailed off, pouting just a little. His shoulders slouched and he looked defeated.

"Don't worry about it." Alistair said, "Why don't you try fighting with a shield? Having a great big sheet of metal between you and the guy you're fighting is very comforting."

Leask laughed, "Yea, if you like being slow, lumbering and an easy target!"

"And how many times has this slow, lumbering easy target saved your tiny little ass Missy?" Alistair retorted, with a grin. Leask waved a hand at him, shaking her head and blowing air between her lips . "Pfffft," She began. "Only because you were lucky! I could have you any day of the week, Chantry Boy."

"Oh, really?"

"Really."

"Well, how about here, and now?" Alistair teased, getting up off the log he had been sitting on. He lifted his hands in a 'bring it on' gesture, tilting his head to the side with a cocky grin.

Soris threw his 'sword' at Alistair, who caught it easily in one hand. "Feel free," The elf said, stepping away to find a safe spot to watch. Alistair spun the stick swiftly with a flick of his wrist and shook his head. "First one knocked to the ground wins?"

Leask raised an eyebrow, and then her lips curled in a large grin. "What does the winner get?"

"How about no watch duty for a week?" Alistair offered, a man who was very fond of his sleep.

"And the loser also takes over the cooking duties for the other." Leask loathed cooking. She was OK at it, but she just hated it.

"Deal." Alistair said, stepping forward and taking Leask's hand in a firm shake. She pulled him closer and kissed him, her tongue teasingly brushing against his lips. For a second Alistair forgot the contest, desperately wanting to draw her closer and savour her, but she drew away too quickly. As she stepped away, he drew in a regretful sigh, tongue tasting the last of her on his lips. "Do you want a shield?" Leask chuckled.

"Mmm." Was Alistair's response, before he picked up the light wooden shield Leask and Soris had been using earlier for archery practice. He pulled out an arrow and tossed it aside, before hooking his arm in it.

Shifting he crouched, and brought the shield around in front of him, banging his 'sword' on the wood. "Bring it on, Elf."

Leask started by loosening off her muscles, both of her makeshift weapons singing through the air as she rolled her wrists. She cracked her neck to the left, and took a step to the right, beginning to circle Alistair. He echoed her movement, eyes on her eyes rather than her feet or her arms.

"Notice how he watches my eyes, Soris." Leask pointed out to Soris, who was sitting watching them intently. "And how he hides behind his shield, offering it as a target."

"Is it wise to be lecturing me while in combat, Leask?" Her cousin observed, leaning back on his seat.

"She's just going to use you-" Alistair began, but then Leask ripped into an attack, moving quickly with a leap to his right. Being right handed Alistair's right side was slightly less protected as it was his sword hand. She made to strike him in the ribs, but Alistair countered by dropping his left knee down, and bringing his shield up as the target. The sound of wood on wood clattered, and Leask swore before hopping back. But Alistair didn't give her a break – he gave chase, pushing off with his right foot and using the shield as a battering ram. It was a technique which required nothing but brute strength, and had worked for him plenty of times in the past.

Leask was too quick, her agility working in her favour as she leapt back and to the right. She stepped around as he charged forward, laying first one blow then another across his shoulders and lower back. They were firm, hard cracks from solid tree branches that had been whittled into short staves.

Alistair cried out, back arching and spinning himself around, his own weapon arching around to clatter across both of Leask's 'blades'. She hopped back to avoid him, but as he surged to his feet Alistair used his brute strength against her nimble feet, raining down blow after blow with his own weapon and shield. She staggered back under the blows, before finally falling to her knees. For a second Alistair thought he had the elf, but she rolled to the left, hitting a blow to the backs of his knees, and then onto his shoulders. The templar had been expecting the hits, and as such his knees didn't give out the way she had obviously planned. He swung out wildly, striking Leask across the face with the tip of his 'sword'. She cried out, more from surprise than pain and launched herself at him again.

Once more he held up his shield to protect himself from the rapid blows she brought down, before leaning forward and with one mighty blow sent her staggering back. Leask's back hit heavily against a tree, and he dashed forwards, pinning her to the tree with his shield pressed against her body. He lifted his 'blade' and pointed at her throat with a smirk.

"Do you submit?" He panted heavily.

All colour had drained from Leask's face, her smugness gone. She didn't answer, instead swallowing.

"Do you submit, or do I have to throw you to the floor?" Alistair teased while trying to regain his breath.

Leask's answer would haunt him forever. Often at nights in the future he would wake up, after having relived that horrible moment when his vision of his perfect woman had suddenly changed.

Her body heaved, and she projectile vomited over his face.

"Eurgh!" Alistair exclaimed, dropping his shield and stumbling backwards. Leask's body convulsed again and she brought up her breakfast, doubling over while she wretched. Soris' laughter echoed across the clearing, and Alistair began to feel a little sick himself. It really, really stank. He hated the smell of vomit. Reluctantly he scraped it off his face and away from his eyes, grimacing. His eyes settled on Leask, his lady love, as she crouched down at the base of the tree, looking distinctly green. "Leask, love you OK?" He moved to crouch beside her, only to be shoved roughly away.

"Urgh get away from me, you stink of..." She never finished her sentence, breaking down into fresh retching. Alistair backed away, just in time for Soris to come forward. He offered Leask some water, and threw a rag at Alistair to wipe himself clean with. Thankfully it was really only on his face and tunic, this he whipped off and tossed away. Then, sure he didn't stink of puke he moved back towards Leask, crouching beside her and rubbing her back.

"Urgh, I feel awful." She grumbled, sinking onto her backside to sit.

"We should probably get you out of the sun." Soris said, looking to Alistair. "Could it have been something you ate?"

Leask shook her head. "I doubt it." Alistair leant over, scooping her up into his arms. He had forgotten how light she was, and her arms went about his neck. Soris trotted along beside them as they headed into the cave, and offered a smile. "Well, I now know that the best way to beat a bloke bigger and stronger than you is to puke all over him!"

Leask groaned, but Alistair grinned. "It is a good tactic for sure, although I'm not sure how darkspawn would react." He laid her down on her bedroll, and Soris fetched her more water. Leask folded her arms over her head, and let out a long sigh. She peeked out at him from behind her elbow. "Don't look at me like I'm about to die."

"You just puked everywhere, surely that's a bad sign?"

"It's just morning sickness Alistair, it happens to a lot of pregnant women."

Soris felt that this was not a conversation he wanted to be involved in. "I'll uh... go and tidy up outside."

Alistair's eyes widened. " How long have you been having this morning sickness?"

She shrugged, letting her eyes close and keeping her arms over her face. "Normally when I've been getting up during the night for my watch duties. You're usually fast asleep. Normally I just feel a little nauseous, but I guess the sparring was a little much for me to handle."

"That's it, your not doing any more watch duties. And no more teaching with the sparring. I'll do both." Alistair decided, nodding at Leask and finally sitting down next to her on the floor. She pushed herself upright, and glared at him.

"What?" She said softly, narrowing her eyes at him.

"You heard me. From now on you're to take it easy."

"Alistair, I'm pregnant, I'm not a delicate flower." Leask spoke slowly, carefully, slightly astounded that he was acting like this. "Why are you treating me like I might drop dead at any second, or I'm some useless girl who is only good for swooning around in pretty dresses?"

Alistair's eyebrows knotted together, and his lips became thin. He hated arguing with Leask, and he hated concealing things from her. But now...now was not the time to tell her. He didn't know when would be the time to tell her, perhaps he could get away with never telling her the truth. He drew in a long breath through his nose, glancing to the ceiling of the cave and then back at her. "Look." He said, finally. "I have never had a family. Not a proper one anyway, not one I can have all to myself. You're precious too me. More precious than anything I've ever come across, more precious than anyone I've ever met. The idea of losing you...to anything, to darkspawn, to illness, to my own stupidity frightens me. I've never done the whole baby thing before. I've never been around a pregnant woman before. I don't know what's normal, and if you don't tell me what to expect I'll panic every time something out of the ordinary happens!"

Leask melted. His big brown eyes looked at her with such worry,so much concern, and she reached forward to kiss him. His arms snaked about her, strong and warm and pulled her closer. Her fingers trailed through his hair, over his ear and along his cheek to gently tap the end of his nose. "Oh Ali." She said softly. "You're ever so silly."

"Pregnancy is different for every woman." She began, before explaining that some women craved things, others didn't have any effects at all, and others suddenly became almost allergic to food they had eaten daily before hand. Alistair took it all in, almost wishing he could write it down in a book somewhere. Eventually Leask grew tired, and chased him out of the cave to give her some peace to have a nap. Reluctantly he complied, just in time to see Zevran and Shianni return from Denerim.

~xXx~

"We'd be best getting out of Ferelden." Zevran said that evening around the fire. Somehow, somewhere, he'd become the unofficial leader of the group, on account of his wealth of knowledge and little network of spies.

"Out of Ferelden all together? Is it really that bad?" Leask couldn't help but hide the expression on her face. It was a worried one, but at the same time there was the edge of excitement in her voice. She had always wanted to travel around Thedas. This was beginning to look like the perfect opportunity. If only she wasn't pregnant the prospect would be all the more exciting.

The blond elf nodded, running his hand through his hair. "Yes, it really is that bad. The Grey Wardens are intent on finding you and I'm sure it won't be long before they start pulling in the mages and their talents in the attempt. We're lucky they haven't already. The Orlesian Commander, a bloke called Joachim seems pretty pissed that Anora didn't manage to retain you, from what I've been told anyway."

"Joachim..." Alistair said softly. "I remember. Duncan told me about him once, a good leader of men, but ruthless and single minded. I suppose you'd have to be, to become a commander of the Grey."

Zevran shrugged. "I don't know the man," He sighed, "But the word on the street is that he is very pissed off. And he has noticed that your family have quitted the Alienage, my lady. He moves quickly, and people are beginning to talk."

Leask sighed, leaning back against the wall and closing her eyes. "So where would be best to go? I know Leilana would be happy for us to join her in Orlais, but I don't know if I want to go there."

"We could head out and see if Sten would put us up." Alistair added, his voice sounding hopeful. "No-one with any sense would follow us deep within the Quanri homelands."

"I suppose." She said softly.

"Could we not just go to none of those places?" Shianni suggested, nibbling on a piece of meat. "I mean, those are the first places they are going to look, right? Maybe we should strike out for land unexplored, start our own country!"

"Don't be daft Shianni." Soris scolded. "That would be impossible. We're better off going where there are others. Maybe we should look for the Dalish?"

Leask shook her head. "The Dalish are wary enough of outsiders, bringing our problems into their camp would not appropriate. We should get on the first ship we can out of Denerim, see where we end up and take it from there. If we don't make long term plans, then we can change them."

"What about the baby?" Cyrion asked softly.

"The baby isn't due for a while, more than enough time to put some distance between ourselves and the wardens." Leask offered her father a smile. "You'll get to see the open ocean dad, feel the spray of the sea. Won't it be marvellous?"

~xXx~

It wasn't marvellous, Alistair reflected. He was currently lying on his stomach in his cabin, head hanging over a chamber pot that was swirling with his own bile. He had ran out of vomit to bring up. There was entirely too much vomit in his life at the moment. The ship lurched, and his stomach with it.

They had managed to barter passage upon an Orlesian merchant vessel. Alistair had managed to convince them he was a rich noble fleeing the reforms in Denerim that Queen Anora was implementing, and that the elves were his most trusted servants. Leask hadn't been happy about being a servant and bowing and scraping, but Zevran had reached an agreement with her. He'd dressed as a woman.

Alistair hadn't been there for the argument, but there had been a lot of low growling and hissing until Zevran relented and Leask burst into laughter. Apparently he had suggested that he be the "head servant" since he wasn't really capable of playing at the whole 'yes ser' subservience thing. Leask had the same argument, pointing out that she had reunited a country torn by civil war, and defeated a Blight. So Leask was dressed as a man, doing her best to play the part of a male elf and succeeding quite well. Alistair found her rather attractive in trousers and vowed to make her wear them more often.

Zevran was scary in a dress. He was enjoying it too much. The make up he was wearing to cover his distinctive facial tattoo's was giving him a very pale complexion and was only encouraging him. Shianni too, kept mentioning how two women together excited her and that only led all the remaining conversation to fall into the gutter.

"Seems you haven't found your sea legs yet, hmm?" Zevran had entered the cabin, with a dramatic swoosh of petticoats.

"Uuuurgh," was Alistair's response as his stomach attempted to climb up out his ears.

The rustle of the silk of Zevran's dress as the elf knelt next to him was disconcerting. Alistair closed his eyes and groaned again.

"You know my friend," Zevran began, "You really should be up on deck. It is much better to focus on the horizon and the fact that it does not sway from side to side and rock up and down helps."

Alistair merely grunted in reply, closing his eyes tighter.

"And your lady is taking a great thrill in climbing up the crows nest!" Alistair could hear the dirty smirk.

"That better not be a euphemism." The warden growled.

"Practically everything I say is, Alistair. Although sadly in this case it is the truth. You would think that your lady was born on the sea." Zevran reached into pouch tied at his waist, and hauled out a small tin. He began to roll something.

Alistair rolled onto his side, and between slitted eyes watched Zevran fill a pipe with something sweet and fragrant. He then lit it up, taking a few puffs himself before handing it over to the warden. "Sit up, Ser Warden, and have a smoke at this. It will make you feel better, I promise."

Dubiously, with the prospect of feeling better, Alistair complied.

* * *

_So Sorry for the delay in updating! real life got in the way, as did distractions with other stories _.net/s/6021701/1/Were_In_This_Together

and .net/s/5995522/1/Tainted _feel free to R & R them! As well as this one. Thanks to everyone that came back to read, even though I haven't updated. I promise I'll get better at updating... _

_Thanks for all the support.  
_


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